


Black Sun

by quackers



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Biblical References, Brief Torture, Demons, Detectives, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mystery, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Police, Urban Fantasy, supernatural is known
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-05-28 01:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 122,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15037472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quackers/pseuds/quackers
Summary: Ryan Bergara and Shane Madej of the Preternatural Investigations Unit of the LAPD must solve a string of demon murders before the killer can enact their mysterious plan.But in the process, more secrets may be revealed than either of them are ready for.





	1. Chapter 1

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because you’re an idiot that never waits for backup? And now we have to do another stake out?”

Ryan frowned, glaring at the ceiling of the car. He couldn’t exactly argue with that, since the situation was his fault, but he was in the mood to complain. “But why are _we_ doing this?”

Shane sighed, keeping his eyes trained on the house across the street, a porch light spilling a pool of brightness across the sidewalk. Binoculars sat idly in one of Shane’s hands, but it was useless at the moment. Nothing was happening. “Because I’m your keeper, apparently. How the Captain expects me to babysit you is beyond me.”

“Fuck you,” Ryan replied lazily, pushing at Shane’s arm without looking away from the ceiling. “I’m nearly thirty, I can take care of myself.”

“Last year's hospital bill says differently.”

Ryan flexed his left hand absently, grimacing at the memory of sharp teeth crunching his bones. That had been a bad situation. “That only happened once.”

He could hear Shane actually turn away from watching the house so that he could stare. Four years of working together meant that Ryan didn’t have to see Shane to know exactly what look he was receiving. “Twice,” he admitted grudgingly. “But the first time didn’t involve a hospital, so it doesn’t really count.”

Shane snorted, clothing rustling as he returned to staring out of the window. “Three times, if you’re counting the fucking chihuahua as the first one. I’m talking about the wendigo from two years ago.”

“Wendy? That was just a misunderstanding!”

He could practically hear Shane roll his eyes. “Whatever, Bergara.”

Ryan grinned. He would never get tired of being able to do this. “That’s _Sergeant_ Bergara.”

“We’re the same damn rank, Ryan, grow up.”

“-Anyways,” Ryan said over him, “Just because you have some kind of insane luck when it comes to injuries doesn’t mean that I need to be taken care of.”

“You would love it if I took care of you,” Shane muttered, an absent joke with nothing cruel to it. It was just Shane, teasing him like he always did. 

That didn’t mean that it didn’t make Ryan’s heart twinge, a faint ache that he was unfortunately very used to. He sighed and closed his eyes. Usually he replied with something sarcastic. Something biting that hid how he was really feeling. But it was late at night, he was tired, and stakeouts with Shane were always a test to his patience. 

Staring at one spot for hours at a time was boring as fuck, but when there was someone to share it with, it could be incredibly intimate. Or absolute hell if the other person was an ass. But with Shane, these hours had become pathetically precious to him. 

It was made worse by the fact that Shane knew. 

His lack of response seemed to clue Shane in on what he had said. “Sorry,” he said softly. 

Ryan shrugged. It was an old ache, well-worn and comfortable in its familiarity. “S’fine. I’m going to try and sleep for a bit. Wake me when it’s my turn.”

There was a silence thick with sad, awkward tension, then Shane reached over and gently patted Ryan’s knee, a quick, comforting touch. It was dreadfully platonic, but Ryan appreciated it all the same. 

The situation could have been much worse. There weren’t many straight men that could so easily accept that their best friend was in love with them, after all. 

A memory of sad eyes and an apologetic voice drifted through Ryan’s mind, but he quickly pushed it away. Shit, he should have been over it by now. 

He forced himself to empty his mind, resorting to using the focusing techniques that they had learned in training seminars all those years ago. It took too long, but he was eventually able to drift off into a light doze. 

Shane saying his name woke him up, the sharp tone filtering through the haze of sleep. He opened his eyes and looked at the dashboard clock. Over three hours had passed. He frowned sleepily. “Dude, you should have woke me an hour ago.”

“You need it more than me,” Shane said absently. He pointed at a figure that was walking up the street, a hunched over man in a torn up hoodie and ragged jeans. “Get your glasses. Tell me what you see.”

Ryan took his glasses case out of the glove compartment without pause. They had worked together for long enough to have these interactions down to a series of actions with minimal conversation. He muttered a word under his breath, and the case popped open in his hand. Taking a deep breath, he unfolded the revealed glasses and slipped them onto his face. 

Everything in front of him _shifted_ for a second. It was a nauseating sensation that he had grown used to, but would never like. 

Humans just weren’t meant to see everything.

Shane was his usual self, the faint glow of a human aura surrounding him, the hazy sparks at his ribs and wrist marking the enchantments he had on his gun and watch. Normal, comforting things that didn’t twist Ryan’s head around. He used that to ground himself, then brought his eyes up. 

His vision swam as his gaze moved passed houses, the faint protections and alarms on the buildings catching his attention. Only practice and training kept him from getting distracted. He forced his eyes to the man that was slowly making his way up the sidewalk. 

At first, the man looked metaphysically normal. But there was something off about his aura. Something alien. “Looks human,” Ryan muttered, sitting up in the seat and squinting to try and bring everything into better focus. “But there’s something-”

 _There_. A stain, a scintillating oil slick that slid over the man’s aura for a brief moment. Then it faded from view. Ryan blinked and sat so far forward that he was leaning over the car’s dashboard, trying to look closer. “What the fuck?”

Shane glanced at him before going back to his binoculars. “What is it?”

“It looked like a possession, but then the mark disappeared. I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Ryan said, a headache rapidly building behind his eyes as he continued staring through the glasses. 

“Are you sure?”

“I know what a possession looks like,” Ryan snapped, the pain making him tense. He swore, squeezed his eyes shut, then carefully took the glasses off. As much as he wanted to fling them, they were one of the most expensive things he owned. The amount of enchantments on them was staggering. “It definitely looked like there was a demon jockey, but then poof. Gone.”

“Poof?” Shane repeated, faintly mocking. 

“Yes, poof. When you start actually using the damn glasses, then you can make fun of my word choice.” It was an old, tired, argument that Ryan knew wasn’t going to be solved any time soon, so he moved on. “Maybe he had a run in with a demon and that was the echo of it?”

“You’re possessed or you’re not, there is no ‘echo’.”

Ryan sometimes hated when Shane sounded so certain. One day he’d prove the man wrong about something. 

They watched as the man came to a stop in front of the house they were surveying. There was a weird tableaux for a minute, as the two of them stared at the man who was staring at the house. 

“What are the odds that he’s just a regular guy out for a walk?” Ryan asked when the man continued to stand there. 

Shane made a disparaging noise. “Dressed like that? In _this_ neighborhood?” 

“True,” Ryan said with a frown. He wished he could physically handle wearing the second sight glasses for longer periods of time. It would have been good to catch another glimpse of that stain on the man’s aura. “He’s just standing there, though. Maybe he’s house hunting.”

That got a surprised laugh out of Shane, who lowered the binoculars just to grin at him. “Oh yeah, I know when I’m looking for a new place, I do it at four in the fucking morning.”

Ryan couldn’t help but laugh with him. God, he loved this stupid man. “I wouldn’t put it past you, you creep. Should we call this in?”

The smile faded off of Shane’s face, though he sent Ryan a soft look that he didn’t know how to interpret before turning back towards the house. “No use unless he does-” Shane trailed off. Raised an eyebrow. “Something. And there he goes.”

Ryan tore his gaze away from Shane’s eyes just in time to see that the man had gone up to the front of the house. And then just punched the door to pieces and walked inside. “Fuck!” Ryan swore, scrabbling for the radio. “Yeah, that’s an illegal demon.”

“Call backup, I’ll-” Shane stopped himself mid sentence and suddenly turned to Ryan. “Wait. Give me your medallion.”

“What?” Ryan asked, letting go of the receiver button in his confusion. 

“Your St. Michael’s medallion, let me see it.”

“Why the fuck-” Ryan pulled the chain off his neck and over his head, handing the necklace to Shane. “We need to hurry, Shane.”

“We have time for this.”

Ryan eyed him nervously. “That was a gift, be careful.”

Shane held the medallion loosely in his palm, took a deep breath, then looked down at it. He seemed to freeze for a second, eyeing the Angel of Mons side of the medallion with something like disbelief. Then he rolled his eyes and said _something_.

It was barely a sentence, a short burst of words that were guttural and oddly melodic at the same time. Ryan could recognize a spell when he heard one, but he had no idea what language that was. Shane closed his hand around the medallion on the last word and light glowed from between his fingers for a brief moment. 

Ryan accepted his necklace back with a bemused air. He was aware of time ticking away, but curiosity got the best of him. “What the hell did you just do?”

“Added another protection to it,” Shane said, obviously trying to be dismissive. “Old family secret against demons.”

Oh. Well that would explain why Ryan hadn’t know the language. He didn’t know much about Shane’s family, since the man never talked about them, but he knew the basics. Enough to know that it was a sore subject. His confusion over Shane’s actions was replaced by fondness that the man would share something like that with him. 

“Call backup, I’ll go ahead,” Shane continued, acting like nothing had happened. Over the years, they had worked out that Shane’s long legs made it easier for him to get to back entrances quickly, while Ryan was intimidating enough to cover the front. It was a strategy that they both instinctively knew by now.

Ryan nodded and reached for the radio. “This is unit 356, Code 8, we’ve got an illegal demon,” he said as he watched Shane slip out of the car and hurry across the street. He relayed more information to dispatch, then followed as quickly as he could. He made sure that he had both his gun and glasses with him. 

The house they had been watching was large, older, and well-cared for. The small lawn was meticulously landscaped and the grass was the kind of lush that was rarely found in dry southern California. It looked like the kind of place that would be would be owned by a rich, white, human family. Which was why it was the perfect hiding place for the fae they suspected of kidnapping human children. No one would have thought to look here. Except for Ryan, whose stubborn willingness to look into all clues, no matter how unbelievable, had caught him more than a few suspects. 

Why a demon had decided to break in to this particular house was a question that Ryan couldn’t wait to ask. 

Despite Shane’s common complaints to the contrary, Ryan was perfectly happy with waiting for backup. Two humans against a demon and an unknown number of fae was not a scenario that he wanted to be a part of. He had no intention of going inside unless he had to.

Apparently the universe had decided to be a bitch, because just as he cautiously approached the front, gun drawn and pointed to the ground, he heard a high-pitched scream that rattled the windows. 

Well, fuck. That had been a fae scream. And if he was to be a judge, one of fear. 

Ryan stepped through the entryway, moving carefully around the splinters of the door. The strong smell of sulfur mixed with the equally strong smell of wet, green, growing things hit his nose. _Shit_. He was about to step into a magic fight. He hoped that Shane had heard that scream and would be coming in as well, because he did not want to go into this by himself. 

He hurried through rooms towards where he thought he had heard the scream. There wasn’t much time to take in details, but he did notice that the inside of the house wasn’t nearly as nice as the outside had made it seem. There was no decorations, nothing on the walls, and only the barest minimum of furniture. He filed that information away for later. 

The farther into the house Ryan went, the louder the sounds of a struggle became. There was the crackle and sizzle of fire, then another scream. He rounded a corner and burst into a large kitchen. The occupants were too busy to notice his entrance at first. Two fae, recognizable by their long ears and inhumanly beautiful features, were facing off against the man in the torn hoodie. 

One of the fae had several cuts across his body, too pink blood soaking into his burnt clothes. The other fae, with shockingly purple hair, was unharmed, but clearly terrified. The man, the demon, was staring at the untouched fae like he was a three course meal. 

Shane ran into the kitchen from the other side, gun drawn. The three turned to look at him, so Ryan yelled, “LAPD, everyone get on the ground!” hoping to split their attention. 

The bloodied fae stared in disbelief, but the other two ignored him. Ryan could guess the reason behind both reactions. The supernatural rarely took humans seriously. 

“We’re with the Preternatural Investigations Unit,” he added, because there was no way he was saying 'PIU,’ even in the middle of a standoff. “Any hand movements will be considered attempted spellcasting.”

That got a reaction. 

Just not one that he wanted.

The purple-haired fae cast a horrified look between Shane and the demon, then tried to bolt towards Ryan. Ryan braced himself, but the demon gestured, and the fae was flung backwards through the air, into his friend. 

Both Shane and Ryan shot the demon, but he continued to ignore them. Fuck, that wasn't a good sign. Their bullets were blessed and it would take a powerful jockey to shrug that off.

“Ryan,” Shane shouted, sounding concerned. “Glasses!” 

_The hell_? “Now?!”

“Yes!”

Trusting Shane with his life meant that he had to trust him in other things too. Shane must have noticed something and needed it confirmed. So Ryan switched his gun to a one-handed grip and fumbled the second sight glasses out of his pocket and onto his face. 

The first thing he saw was the demon, and he froze in surprise. There was nothing off about the man. His aura was still purely human. _How the fuck_? He had seen the man using demonic powers, there was no way there wasn’t a jockey. Ryan shifted his gaze over to the fae and nearly dropped his gun. 

The bloodied fae had an overlay, a half-seen image of vines and leafs ghosting over his figure. Common for a species that based its power off nature. But Purple Hair had something more to his aura. There was something-

A faint black oil slick faded into view across the ghostly leaves, tainting the aura under it. 

“Fuck,” Ryan whispered. “Demon. Demon,” he repeated louder, yelling it to Shane. “The fae, he’s possessed!”

Ignoring the _impossibility of that statement_ , this was terrible news. They couldn’t handle a fight between two demons and he had no idea when backup would arrive. 

Movement to his side made him twist back towards the first demon, just in time to see the possessed man fling something at him. A spell that pulsed black in the second sight. A curling twisting mess of hungry darkness that would forever be imprinted into his memory. He flinched, unable to dodge in time, abruptly sure that he was going to die. 

Fear bubbled up in him, stark terror, and then-

The darkness hit an invisible barrier in front of him and dissipated into nothingness. The medallion under his shirt burned, a hot spot on his chest that verged on painful. Ryan turned wide eyes towards Shane, who was staring at him with a horrified expression, hand outstretched. 

In their distraction, they missed the first demon walk up and grab the possessed fae. A scream that pierced the ears, then the demon snapped Purple Hair's neck like it was a pencil. The body dropped. Ryan could see the oil slick detach itself from the dying fae’s aura and dart up.

The demon grabbed it. Reached out with human, corporeal hands, and grabbed the spirit of the escaping demon. Ryan watched, unable to do more than stare, as the first demon absorbed the second into his human body. “He just...he ate the other one,” Ryan said for Shane’s benefit, his voice shaky in his disbelief. 

His words drew the attention of the surviving demon. He didn’t blink, his gaze never wavered, but suddenly the demon was in front of him. He hadn’t seen the creature move. The earlier fear resurged. Ryan had never been so afraid of a homeless looking man in ragged clothes.

“You’re still alive,” the demon said, staring at Ryan as if he was a puzzle. The stench of sulfur grew overwhelming, but even from this close, he could see nothing but a human aura through the glasses. “You should be a rotting corpse by now. What is protecting you, little human?”

Ryan must have been too busy watching the demon to notice Shane moving, because he had no warning when the barrel of a gun was suddenly pressed to the demon’s temple. 

“Put your hands up or you won’t have a living body to possess,” Shane said coldly, his eyes flat and dark.

For one brief second, Shane was just as intimidating as the demon, and Ryan’s terror spiked. He knew Shane wouldn’t actually pull the trigger, but in that moment, his instincts believed that Shane was more than capable of killing an innocent human just to threaten a demon. Maybe he made a noise, or he moved without realizing it, because both Shane and the demon turned to look at him. 

The demon’s eyes went completely black, a physical manifestation of the entity inside the body. Ryan had seen it before, he knew it was a cliched threat tactic that even the weakest demon could accomplish, but damn if it didn’t still scare him. A slow, satisfied smirk from the demon, and Ryan had to take a deep breath, trying to push back the fear. 

_Fucking empathic leeches_. 

Ryan’s radio crackled to life, a voice calling that backup was outside the house. The demon’s smirk smoothed away. Then he laughed. “What makes you think I want this body?”

Those black eyes melted to light brown, and Ryan saw the briefest of smudges on the human’s aura, a quick glimpse of something transparent and dark rising up, then darting away. Ryan lost sight of it almost instantly. 

The man’s body swayed forward before he caught himself. He blinked at Ryan, took in the gun and badge, raised his hands and said in a completely different voice. “Hey man, I don’t want no trouble.” Then his face twisted in pain and he curled forward, hunching over the bullet in his arm. “What the _fuck_ , dude?”

“Jockey’s gone,” Ryan stated the obvious, relaxing his stance, tense energy draining out of him. The loss of adrenaline meant that the spiking headache behind his eyes was abruptly more important than anything else. “I don’t think it’s a trick.” Few demons bothered to learn slang, anyways. 

Although, before today, he would have never thought that a demon could hide its presence in a human’s aura from second sight glasses, or that a fae could be possessed. It was a night for learning, apparently. Keeping the gun trained on the man, he gingerly took the glasses off, slipping them into his pocket. He wanted nothing more than to go find a dark hole to crawl into, but he settled for blinking hard a couple of times to try and reset his vision. 

“Madej,” Ryan rasped, nodding towards the bloodied fae that was shakily kneeling next to the body of his friend. Even that small movement made the pounding in his head even worse. Fuck, he’d kill for some painkillers. “Probably want to cuff him. He's still a suspect.”

Shane seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had been, his blank face regaining it’s usual expressiveness. He did that sometimes, like he got so caught up in thought that he forgot the rest of the world was around him. Ryan was used to it, but he needed Shane present, not obsessing over something.

Of course, that was when Ruggirello and her newest partner chose to walk into the kitchen. 

Better late than never, his ass. 

The man, a vagrant by the name of Marcel, and the fae who refused to give them his name were handcuffed and read their rights. While they were waiting for an ambulance and Forensics to arrive, Ryan insisted on searching the house, despite the acute pain in his head. 

Shane was an uncommonly silent shadow at his heels as they went from room to room. Usually the man would have had something sarcastic to say, but he was obviously distracted. He didn’t even say anything when Ryan jumped at the sight of a spider. 

“How did you know the fae had a demon riding him?” Ryan asked while they headed back down the stairs, both to distract Shane, and to distract himself from how creepy the house was with its general lack of furniture. 

They went down an entire flight of stairs before Shane answered. “Wouldn’t be a very good demon hunter’s son if I couldn’t spot the characteristics,” he said absently, sounding a million miles away.

Ryan looked over his shoulder, a little incredulous. “We just saw a possessed _fae_ and a demon that could hide. I didn’t think either of those things were possible.”

“Of course they’re possible.”

Alright, what the fuck. Ryan came to a full stop in the middle of the stairs, turning to face Shane. Standing two steps down like this, he came up to the man’s stomach, which was just ridiculous. “I hate when you act like you know something you couldn’t,” Ryan said, glaring. He wasn’t actually angry, but the headache was making him more annoyed than usual. And sometimes Shane could be such a dick. “I’ve never heard of either of those things happening and it’s information we should know, since it’s literally our _jobs_ to find illegal demons.”

Shane raised one eyebrow, finally looking like he was paying attention to what was going on around him. “Our job is to investigate crimes in the preternatural community, not to waste our time looking for demons that probably aren’t there.”

He wasn't wrong. Still. “How come I’ve never heard of any of this if it’s oh so obvious?”

“Demons powerful enough to hide what they are from second sight are going to come here legally. And legal demons aren’t going to bother with the hassle of hiding,” Shane said. Then frowned. “Usually. It _is_ weird that a demon that powerful would risk being banished.”

“How the hell have I never heard this before?”

An unconcerned shrug, as if they weren’t talking about something that was going to make it impossible for Ryan to sleep at night. “Take it up with your precious demon textbooks, not me. I didn’t write them.”

Ryan scowled, reaching up to rub at his temple. Having to crane his head like this was only making his headache worse, so he turned and headed back down the steps. “Fucking noncorporeal parasites,” he muttered to himself. God, he hated demons. He ignored Shane’s sigh, since he didn’t want to get into another argument about prejudice. Nothing was going to change his attitude towards demons, not even the man he was pathetically in love with. “So let me guess, demons being able to possess the fae is common knowledge too?”

There was a long silence as they made it back down to the ground floor. Ryan stopped to look at Shane, surprised when he noticed that the man actually seemed a little uncomfortable. Shane glanced at him, then looked away. “Uh, well. No,” he said slowly. Then he took a deep breath like he was about to jump off a cliff, and added, “I don’t even think many fae would know. They like to think they’re impervious to human flaws. But-” Shane paused. Seemed to think something over. “Any son of earth that can fall to eternal slumber can be seized by the demonic affliction,” he intoned, as if he was quoting something. 

Ryan had never heard that before. It sounded like an old saying, so if it was a quote from an ancient manuscript, it was one he had never heard of it. And he had done a lot of research. This presented a problem. If it wasn’t common knowledge that Ryan had just happened to miss, that meant that very few people would believe him in his report. Or they would think he had misinterpreted something through the second sight. There had to be a way to prove that there had been a jockey in the fae. 

“How do you know all of this?”

Shane lost his uncomfortable look enough to raise one eyebrow at Ryan, then gestured towards himself. “Madej.” As if that was an answer. 

It actually was, but it didn’t add up, either.

“Weren’t you like sixteen when your family died?” Ryan blurted without thinking. “You can’t tell me that they taught you all of this before you even graduated high school?”

Shane’s expression smoothed out. “We should check the basement,” he said, turning around and heading towards the back of the house. 

It dawned on Ryan that maybe he had said something a little insensitive. He hesitated, knowing that he should say something, try to offer some kind of apology, but Shane was already nearing a small door that Ryan had overlooked as a storage closet. Telling himself that he would apologize later, Ryan hurried forward, reaching Shane just as he opened the door. 

There was a set of stairs that led down into darkness. 

_That’s not creepy as hell or anything._

“How did you know there would be a basement?” Ryan asked, eyeing the darkness like it was going to reach out and grab him. 

“It’s an old house, all old houses have basements.”

Ryan gave him a confused look. “Uh, not in southern California, they don’t.”

Shane made a face, then shrugged, as if to say that it was California’s fault for being weird. Ryan narrowed his eyes. 

The taller man subtly smirked, an expression that only someone with such ridiculous face could pull off, then gestured towards the stairs. “After you.”

“Fuck you, Madej,” Ryan said, even as he stepped forward. They’d stand there all day arguing if he didn’t go first. Shane took way too much pleasure in watching him be afraid. “I’m going to push you down the damn stairs. Maybe they’ll finally give me a new partner.”

“I don’t know why everyone thinks you’re the nice one.”

“I have a trustworthy face,” Ryan replied, reaching passed the doorway to feel around for a lightswitch. The relief when he found one was palpable. Lights flickered on, and he could see just how rickety the stairs were. At the bottom was a poured concrete floor, but he wasn’t able to make out much else. 

He opened his mouth to suggest that they just leave when he heard a noise. A faint whimper. Ryan held up his hand to interrupt whatever Shane was taking a breath to say. 

There. A faint scrape, another pained whimper.

It sounded like it came from someone young.

Ryan checked his initial instinct to rush down the stairs. This was a house that had been occupied by fae. There could be anything down there. 

“Did you hear that?” Ryan asked in a low mutter. He wasn’t sure why he bothered to be quiet now, since anyone down there would have already heard their previous words. 

Shane murmured an equally quiet ‘yes.’ Which meant that they had to go down. Damn it. Ryan drew his gun, keeping his finger well away from the trigger, just in case it really was someone innocent. 

Each step creaked under his feet, so he didn’t waste time with going slowly. The farther down he went, the more and more of the room he could see. It was a simple room, with unfinished drywall up in patches, no furniture, and a cheap, poorly installed sink. 

And three children huddled together, chains trailing from their ankles to large rings set in the floor. They stared at Ryan and Shane with tear-filled eyes, but they didn’t say anything. 

“Fuck,” Ryan hissed under his breath. “Shane, I can’t use the glasses again. I’m already fighting a migraine.”

Thank God, Shane didn’t try to argue. He just reached into Ryan’s front pocket and snagged the glasses, sliding them onto his face.

It said something about their friendship that Shane could essentially feel up Ryan's thigh and neither of them even thought about it. 

Shane grimaced, squinted at the children, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, yanking the glasses off his face. They had been on his face for maybe two seconds and he already looked sick. No one knew why, but Shane could barely handle using the second sight glasses. It didn’t make sense. Shane was one of the most magically talented humans Ryan had ever met. He could even out spellcast some nonhuman warlocks, which was nearly unheard of. But as soon as he did something involving second sight, he acted like he was about to throw up everything he had ever eaten. 

Ryan lowered his gun, although he didn’t put it away. He took a step forward, then crouched, trying to bring himself closer to the children’s level. “Hey kids,” he said softly. They stared at him, shivering so hard that he could see it from two yards away. “This is going to sound weird, but could you show me your teeth?”

Even through their scared silence, he could detect a hint of surprise and confusion from all three. Good. That meant they were at least a little responsive. Eventually, the one on the right, a small girl that couldn’t have been more than six, bared her teeth in creepy grimace. The other two followed her example. 

There weren’t any brown stains on their tiny, childish teeth. 

Shoulders slumping in relief, Ryan holstered his gun. “No blood,” he said to Shane. “They’re human. Go get Ruggirello, then call in another ambulance. And Child Services.”

Shane grunted in acknowledgement, still sounding strained, then made his way back up the stairs. 

Ryan approached the children cautiously, stopping just outside of reach for their own comfort. “My name is Ryan,” he said in a soft, low voice. “What are your names?”

They huddled closer together. The second girl actually clapped her hand over her mouth.

 _Right, fuck, I’m an idiot_. These three had been kidnapped by fae, they knew better than to give out their true names. Smart kids. But it didn’t help him right now. 

“Why don’t you give me nicknames? Fake names, just so I have something to call you?”

“John,” said the boy after a second. “Amy,” said the older girl. Then the younger girl sat up straighter and nearly shouted, “Batman!”

Ryan couldn’t help but grin at her. “Alright, John, Amy, and Batman. Would you like to get out of those chains?”

For the first time, they looked at him with something like hope. “C-Can we go home?” the boy asked, heartbreakingly quiet and timid.

“Are you a cop?” the oldest girl asked. She sounded suspicious. 

Ryan silently cursed himself. He should have known to lead with that, since most children this age knew to trust cops. “Yes I am, Amy,” he said, saying the name with a silly wink to try and get them more relaxed. He reached for the badge on his belt, unclipping it and held it out to them. “Would you like to see my badge?”

The boy and ‘Batman’ leaned forward, intrigued by the shiny metal. 

“I’m going to take a look at these chains and see if I can’t get them off, okay?”

Batman bravely stuck her leg out towards him in exchange for the badge, the chain rattling musically as it scraped against the floor. To Ryan’s untrained eye, it looked like silver or a silver alloy. He supposed it made sense for fae to avoid using iron chains, but how expensive would that much silver be? 

There was no break in the smooth manacle around the girl’s ankle, just a continuous band of metal. Well fuck. That meant it had been locked using magic, and while Ryan was good for a human, he didn’t have the expertise to puzzle out the right spell. Assuming he’d even know the right spell to begin with. 

He tugged lightly on the chain, testing its weight. Maybe, if he had been the one in the chains, he would have had the strength to break one of the links off the ring embedded in the floor. But he didn’t want to try that with children attached. “I’m sorry, guys,” he said as gently as he could. “We’ll have to wait for help to get you out of these.”

All three slumped and Ryan felt like a monster. “It won’t be long!” he quickly added, “you’ll be out of here soon, I promise.”

The older two curled into each other, a defeated exhaustion in their forms. He didn’t think they believed him. Batman was watching like she was trying to make a very important decision. He had no idea what to do with either reaction. 

The little girl looked at the badge clutched in her tiny fingers, then very quietly asked, “Can fairies be cops?”

Ryan winced, both at the childish word for fae, and the fact that Lim would probably hex him if he tried to say there were no fae officers. “They can,” he admitted softly, really wishing he could lie. Who knew how traumatized these kids were? “But not all fae are bad, just like not all humans are good.”

Batman bit her lip in thought. “Billy at school is human and he pushed me,” she said after a second. Then continued as if she hadn’t just said anything. “I have to tell you a secret.”

Sure that it was going to be something childish and inconsequential, Ryan smiled and nodded. “You can tell me.”

Lowering her voice to a faint whisper, the girl said, “The one with purple hair has something in him.”

Ryan blinked. Fought to keep his voice level. “Something?”

Batman nodded solemnly. “Yeah. He came down here to give us water, and Jesse tripped him. He fell and hit his head and laid there for a really long time and we thought maybe he had died,” she said, her voice getting faster and louder in her excitement at being able to retell this. She ignored how ‘John’ was glaring at her. “But then I saw a dark cloud that made me scared, and it-” she waved her hands, smacking them together, “went into him! And then he got up and he wasn’t bleeding any more. And he didn’t hurt Jesse for tripping him.”

“Batman,” he said in a very serious voice, making the girl giggle. “Are you fully human?”

She shook her head. “My grandmother was an undine!”

Oh thank God. Someone with sight had seen a demon in the fae as well. Ryan already had a reputation for believing in the impossible, he didn’t particularly want to add to it with fantastical tales. “Would you be willing to tell others this?”

“...If he can’t get me, then yeah. It was kinda cool to see.”

Ryan nearly hugged her, despite the fact that she might not welcome the touch. 

Footsteps on the stairs made all of them look up. Ruggirello came down, followed by Shane. Ryan didn’t miss how the two older kids relaxed at the sight of a woman, but the youngest was staring wide-eyed at Shane. 

To be fair, Shane was probably pretty intimidating to a little girl that barely came up to his knee. 

Ruggirello crouched down, engaging the other two in a light, fun conversation, letting them know that they would be out of there soon. The girl never took her eyes off Shane. Which was weird, because someone with the sight would know that Ruggirello was a werewolf. Ryan would have thought that would have been scarier than a tall human. Even if said human resembled a scarecrow.

Ryan impatiently gestured to Shane to crouch down as well. It was like watching a building collapse, but the man did eventually make it to their height. “Shane, I’d like you to meet Batman.”

Shane let out a quiet, surprised laugh that made Ryan grin. “Batman, this is Shane. He’s the one that found you guys.”

Batman tilted her head. Narrowed her eyes at Shane. “Do you want to know my real name?”

There was a long pause, during which Ryan looked between the two of them. He felt like he was missing something. Shane shifted, putting his knee on the ground so that he could lean closer to the girl. “I think Batman is a great name,” he answered in a serious tone. 

That got him a wide grin. “I’m not afraid of you,” the girl announced after a second. “You’re cool. And pretty.” 

Ryan choked on an inhale, closing his mouth over the strangled, wheezing laugh that tried to escape. _Pretty!_ Holy shit, yes, he was never going to forget that. 

Both of them ignored him, which was probably the right choice. “Thank you,” Shane said in the same serious way. 

The young girl, who had been chained in a basement for God knew how long, gave them a blindingly bright, cheerful smile, as if they were friends meeting for a play date. “My name is Megan,” she said. Then thrust her hand out at Shane. He shook it very solemnly. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Megan,” Shane said. “You’re a bright soul.”

Ryan shot Shane a quizzical look at his word choice, then rolled his eyes. Sometimes Shane was just _weird_.


	2. Chapter 2

A few hours later, and after more painkillers than was healthy, Ryan found himself across from the fae that had lived through the encounter with the demon. The gashes across his face had almost healed, but the fae still moved as if he was in great pain. 

That might have had something to do with the amount of cold iron in the interrogation rooms. The fae’s restraints were plastic,the chair he was sitting in was made from wood, along with the top of the table, but the table legs were pure iron. It had been a surprisingly expensive piece of furniture for the Department to buy, but it also weakened any fae that they had to question. Ryan was sure that the only reason they weren’t accused of being speciesist was because the person who had recommended the measures was fae himself. 

Ryan was standing, while Ruggirello was sitting across from the fae, both of them clutching at coffee like it was a life line. Shane had decided to lean against the wall in the corner and Ryan wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t a sleep. 

They had been in the room for nearly a half hour, but the fae hadn’t said a single word besides requesting his lawyer. Ryan was tired and frustrated and the painkillers had only taken the edge off of his headache. “You know how this looks,” he said for the third time. “Three human children in the basement of a house that was bought under a pseudonym. You and your friend were the only two there. Once we get the testimony from the children, you’ll be going to jail for a very long time. Even a fae has to find twenty years in prison boring.”

“Give us something to work with and maybe we can help you,” Jen said, picking up the thread of conversation smoothly. “Why would a demon try to attack your friend?”

The fae stared at them, his distractingly beautiful face stubbornly blank. 

Ryan was growing more and more annoyed, the emotion starting to cloud his judgement. They hadn’t been able to find anything on either fae to identify them, and fae didn’t have dental records, so they couldn’t even try to identify the body of Purple Hair that way. 

The homeless man had been quick to give up any information that would get him out of police custody faster, but that had been a dead end. His story had been along the same vein as most humans that were possessed by an illegal demon. He had drank too much one night, been hit by a car, then presumably had fallen into a coma. The next thing the man remembered was facing down Ryan’s gun. 

“Fae don’t do too well in jail,” Ryan said, leaning forward. “You can’t heal through _everything_.”

“It’s a shame that we’re not allowed to use cold iron thumb screws,” Shane said of nowhere. “Or the rack.”

Everyone in the room turned to look at him, even the fae giving him a concerned expression. 

“What?” Shane asked, eyebrows raised.

Ryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Jen, this is why I asked you to help.” He sighed. “Madej, what did we talk about?”

“There’s ‘good cop bad cop’ and then there’s ‘good cop mentally deranged cop’ and I don’t know the difference between them?”

Another long, exasperated sigh out of Ryan. “Let’s leave this guy to think about his options.”

Shane moved forward, until he was looming over the fae. “Wait.”

The lights in the room flickered, Ryan’s vision growing dark for a second. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his sight, absently rubbing at the St. Michael’s medallion under his shirt. It felt weirdly warm. 

Then Ryan’s attention was caught by the fae. His eyes were wide, pupils pinpricks. He was shaking. He looked _terrified_.

 _What the hell_? Why would the electricity surging scare him?

“Tell us what we want to know,” Shane said, something disquieting in his words. 

“Verity Miller,” the fae blurted, his voice high-pitched in fear. “My name is Verity, my-my friend was Dandelion Johnson.”

Only professional pride kept Ryan from staring with his mouth open. What the fuck was going on?

“I don’t know why a demon would have gone after Dandelion, we were just there to watch the kids, that’s it. We weren’t even the ones that took them!”

A knock on the door made everyone except Shane jump. Ruggirello’s new partner stuck his head in. “The guy’s lawyer is here. It’s Gibson.”

Ryan’s confusion was pushed aside in favor of pure annoyance. He exchanged a glance with Shane, then headed towards the door. “Keep him talking, Jen. Shane and I will try and stall as long as we can.”

And if Ryan played it right, him and Gibson could get into an argument that would last for an hour. 

They barely made it down the hall before encountering Gibson. The tall, handsome man took one look at them and grinned obnoxiously. His eyes went pure black as he practically thrust his hand into Ryan’s face. “Bergara! You’re still alive? How shocking.”

Ryan knew that Gibson only did that because he enjoyed making Ryan squirm, so he grit his teeth and shook the demon’s hand. He didn’t bother squeezing as hard as he could, since the demon probably wouldn’t even feel it, but he was sorely tempted to. “Gibson,” he said with a smile that was more like a baring of teeth. “Still a walking stereotype, I see.”

“Ah, I never get tired of the demon lawyer jokes, I assure you,” Gibson replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a client I need to rescue from the dirty clutches of the PIU.”

Ryan planted his feet and raised his chin, ignoring the insult. “How does a nobody fae afford one of the best attorneys in the state?”

Gibson made an actual tutting noise. Ryan had thought that was something only old people did. Well, who knew how old the demon was? “As flattered as I am that you finally acknowledged my skills, you won’t distract me this time, Bergara.” And he grasped Ryan by the shoulders and moved him to the side like he didn’t weigh any more than a piece of paper. 

There was no stopping the shiver that made its way up Ryan’s spine, making the hair on the back of his neck raise. _Fuck_ , he hated when demons showed off their strength so casually. He kept his eyes on Gibson, his body protesting the idea of a predator behind his back. Ryan took a deep breath to try and calm his fear, but it was too late. Gibson must have felt the emotion, because the demon looked over his shoulder and winked, right before opening the door to the interrogation room. 

“Fucking _parasite_ ,” Ryan swore, not caring in the slightest if Gibson could hear him. “I hate that damn jockey.”

“Not from where I’m standing,” Shane said, one corner of his mouth up in an amused smirk. 

Ryan kept quiet as Ruggirello came out of the interrogation room, muttering angrily to herself when she brushed passed them. Gibson often had that effect. As soon as she was out of the hallway, Ryan glared at Shane. “What the fuck was that supposed to mean?”

Shane raised one eyebrow. Gestured at himself. “Tall, skinny, and doesn’t put up with your shit? Seems like your type.”

Making a sputtering noise that did nothing to accurately describe how he felt about that statement, Ryan could only flip Shane off. There was just too many things wrong with what he had said. 

“Demon got your tongue?”

Ryan marched over to Shane just so he could poke him in the ribs. It was more like a stab. “Any interest I may have ever had in you is quickly turning into absolute _hate_. How _dare_ you?”

Shane grinned down at him, doing nothing to defend himself from Ryan’s poking finger. Not for first time, Ryan thought about how weird it was that they could joke about this, his feelings for Shane, so easily. 

“I’m just saying, the sexual tension-”

“ _Shane_.”

Their playful argument was interrupted by the interrogation room door slamming open. Gibson stood there, a calm expression on his face. He brought his hands up, steepling his fingers together and tapping them against his lips, like he was thinking of what to say. 

There were black claws where his nails should have been. 

“What,” Gibson said slowly. Carefully. “The fuck. Did you do. To my client?”

Ryan glanced at Shane in confusion, but Shane was just staring at Gibson with a slight smirk. “I don’t-”

“Miller is a gibbering mess because of something you and your mayfly lackeys did. What was it?” There was the faintest smell of sulfur. 

Fighting back his fear, Ryan focused on his anger and took one step forward aggressively. “We didn’t do anything, _Gibson_ ,” he said the name with clear contempt. Gibson knew what Ryan thought about demons keeping their hosts’ names. “You can check the security cameras if you want to waste your time. He chose to tell us everything of his own volition.”

Gibson stared at him for a long moment. Or so Ryan thought. It was sometimes hard to tell what a demon was thinking when their eyes were all black. 

Fingers that were no longer clawed fell back to Gibson’s sides. “You’re telling the truth,” Gibson said, sounding bewildered. “Or what you think is the truth.”

Ryan let his anger carry him even closer. “I wouldn’t bother to lie to a _jockey_ , you damned leech.”

The demon leaned down, his eerily flat expression falling into an indulgent smile. “You’re so righteous in your hatred, Bergara. You had better be careful. That’s almost a sin.”

There was barely a foot between them. Maybe it was because of what Shane had said, but Ryan was abruptly aware of how attractive Gibson was. Well, of course he was attractive. Legal demons were powerful enough to devise contracts with whoever they chose. Ryan had done the research, and before he had fallen into a coma from a car wreck, the human Gibson had been a fairly well known model. 

Despite himself, a little thrill of interest curled low in Ryan’s gut. Even the black eyes didn’t really detract from the overall attractive picture. 

Gibson’s smile gained a sharp, predatory edge. “Well, then.”

Ryan wanted to slap himself. Of course the _demon_ would pick up on his feeling of lust, no matter how shallow it was. Pure idiotic stubbornness kept him from moving away, though. Gibson tilted towards him slightly, a glacial shift that sent a different kind of fear through Ryan. 

Suddenly there was a hand on Ryan’s arm, pulling him back. He snapped out of whatever hypnotized daze he had been in, abruptly realizing that he could actually _feel_ Gibson’s aura. The bastard was trying to pull an incubus move on him. What the fuck? 

“If you two are done flirting,” Shane said, still pulling Ryan back. “We have work to do.”

If Ryan didn’t know better, he would have thought that Shane sounded jealous. But that didn’t make sense-

“Is that a hint of jealousy, I hear, Madej?” Gibson asked, sounding smug. It was eerie that they were thinking along the same lines. “Just because you can’t get it up doesn’t mean that Bergara has to suffer because of it.”

Ryan was just about to launch into an angry tirade, when the lights flickered again. This time, it was a longer period of darkness, and something about it made his headache spike. He stumbled, interrupting the glaring match going on between Shane and Gibson. 

“What the hell is wrong with the lights today?” he muttered absently, frowning at the floor. “Ow,” he added, rubbing at his chest. It felt like he had a little burn under his collarbone. Was he getting a rash?

“The lights?”

Shane sounded worried, but Ryan was too focused on the pain in his temples to really notice. “Yeah, that’s the second time they’ve done that today. Did we not pay the electricity?”

“Bergara, what’s on your chest?” Gibson asked.

Ryan glanced up at the two of them. They were both looking at him like he was a particularly interesting science experiment. “My St. Michael’s medallion. Not that it’s any of your business. Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You’ve been touched by a demon lately,” Gibson said, his brow furrowed in concentration. Before Ryan could say something scathing about how obvious that statement was, Gibson fucking grinned. “And not by who I thought. Oh Nahash, I recognize that handiwork. You have made more than one mistake.”

Ryan blinked at him. Shane also turned to stare at the demon. “Uh. What?”

“It’s depressing that you really are one of my favorite humans,” Gibson said, clapping his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “If you’re still alive the next time I have to come to this filthy place, I will be truly shocked.”

That was a pretty common example of something Gibson would say, since he seemed to love being vaguely threatening. Yet something about how he said it this time was eerie. Ryan was too out of sorts to reply, so he just watched as Gibson walked back into the interrogation room, closing the door behind him. 

“Do you have any idea what just happened?” Ryan asked, unconsciously rubbing at his chest. 

His head was _killing_ him.

Shane never answered. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

That night, Ryan fell into his bed and was asleep before he even made it completely horizontal. Not even the second sight induced headache could keep him up.

So it was jarring for him to abruptly wake up after a handful of hours. His chest hurt. 

Weird. 

He shifted onto his side and blearly squinted at the clock on his nightstand. The glowing red numbers read ‘3:01 a.m.’ Absently, he thought about removing his necklace, since it was aggravating the burn on his skin, but figured it wasn’t worth the effort. 

He started to roll over to go back to sleep. Then froze. 

There was something in his room.

It was dark, only the numbers from his alarm clock and a thin line of light from the street light outside breaking up the pitch black room. He hadn't seen anything. Hadn't heard anything. There wasn't even a strange smell.

But his instincts were convinced that he wasn't alone. 

Ryan’s brain told him something was wrong, something wasn’t adding up, and his body was torn between his instincts and his logic. He could feel his heartbeat trip and stutter, before launching into a fast beat that pounded against his ribs. Without conscious thought, he began to breathe shallowly, trying to keep as quiet as possible. The necklace dangling off his neck was too warm, a brand on his skin.

That meant something. He just didn't have the attention to think of what it meant.

His imagination started painting images of hands, long and thin, creeping across the bed. His back prickled and he was abruptly sure that something was going to touch him on the back of his neck, even though he knew nothing was there. For the first time in his life, Ryan cursed his habit of sleeping shirtless. Despite his basketball shorts, he felt naked. Unprotected. 

Biting his cheek so hard that it brought tears to his eyes, he focused on the pain to try and break his mind from the circling, all-consuming fear. There was a thought, a tiny voice in the back of his head telling him what was wrong. This fear wasn't natural.

It felt like a hot breath ghosted across his arm and hand, stirring the hair on the back of his knuckles. Ryan whimpered, then clamped his mouth shut. _No, no, it will hear me, be quiet be quietbequietbequiet!_

Ryan wrenched himself forward, lunging for his phone, tearing the charger out of the wall in the process. As soon as he felt it in his hand, he scrambled towards the head of his bed, curled into himself, then went completely still. A rabbit in front of a predator, shivering, heart racing so fast that it was about to burst. 

But there was _nothing there_. He knew that, he knew nothing could get into his apartment without him knowing, not even something metaphysical. He had paid good money for the wards on his doors and windows. Even the plumbing and electrical sockets had wards. 

Repeating those facts to himself over and over again was the only way he could uncurl his cramping hands from around his phone. Training seminars from years ago, remembered meditation mantras and visualization techniques were the only things keeping him from snapping. Fear beat at his mind, instincts telling him that every movement was going to lead to his death, but he forced himself to unlock his phone, bring up his messages, and hit the phone icon. 

By the time he had managed that much, he was drenched in sweat, his limbs shaking so much that he could barely keep the phone in his grip. The feeling of something _watching_ pressed closer. The darkness was becoming a physical presence in his mind

He did his best to ignore the moving shadows within shadows that teased the corner of his vision. 

The was the tinny, far away sound of a phone ringing and he hoped, _prayed_ that Shane would pick up, that he wasn’t so asleep that he would ignore his phone. 

A beat of silence, a breath. “Ryan?” he could barely hear Shane ask. “It’s like three in the morning.”

No matter how much he wanted to, Ryan couldn’t bring himself to raise the phone to his ear. Movement was impossible. Deadly. 

“Shane,” Ryan breathed, his voice strained and broken. He was sure that it was too quiet for the phone to have picked up, but Shane suddenly sounded louder, like he had put his mouth closer to his own phone. 

“Ryan? Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

Shivering so hard that it was a wonder he didn’t drop his phone, Ryan managed to choke out, “Curse. Fear.” A ragged inhale that would have precluded a sob if he hadn’t been so terrified of making too much noise. “Help.”

Silence so deep that Ryan began to worry calling Shane had been a hallucination. 

Then Shane started to swear, loud, angry, fear-driven words that beat back the miasma of terror for a brief, glorious second. “I’m coming, Ryan,” Shane said, his voice suddenly calm and soothing. “Don’t hang up the phone, okay? I’m going to keep talking, I need you to focus on my voice. Just keep listening to me.”

Ryan tried to answer, but all he could manage was a faint whimper. It must have been enough, because Shane started to talk, saying random things in a steady voice. Ryan wasn’t sure what the man was saying. He could have been reciting his favorite takeout orders, but it didn’t really matter. 

Knowing that Shane was getting help, that he was on his way, made something in Ryan relax. 

And that was a mistake. 

Even though there was nothing in front of him, Ryan was _sure_ that he could see skeletal fingers grab at his sheets. That something was standing just out of his line of sight. That a hand was going to grab him and _take him away_. 

The darkness breathed. 

His phone buzzed in his hand. 

Later, Ryan would be embarrassed that a fucking Twitter notification would be what broke him. 

The crumbling walls of logic and training that were barely keeping the fear at bay were washed away under a tidal wave of implacable terror. He screamed. Dropped his phone. 

Faintly, through his own hands that he had clapped over his head, he could hear Shane shouting his name, repeating it in a louder and louder voice. Ryan couldn’t physically respond. All he could do was fall into panicked whimpers, his mind gibbering in mad fear.

He thought he heard a small breeze, a gust of wind that made him cry out, then he fell into a huddle, his face pressed to his knees because he couldn’t look, he couldn’t see whatever was about to get him. 

“Ryan,” he heard, right next to him. In his room.

It was impossible to know how much time had passed since he had called Shane. His mind had been locked in an endless spiral of fear for long enough that time had no meaning. But there was surely no way that Shane could already be in his apartment. It had to be a trick. He curled into a tighter ball, intensely aware of how exposed the back of his neck was. 

A sound that was reminiscent of a strangled groan, then swearing. 

“Ryan, I’m going to touch you.”

Dimly, Ryan heard a thin, keening wail. He eventually realized that it was coming from him. His heart was beating so fast that it felt like a constant thrum and he could taste copper on the back of his tongue. 

A large, too warm hand fell on his shoulder. Ryan screamed and began to struggle, flight instincts telling him he had to get away _now_. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a body that was too long, too hot, that smelled like fire. He struggled harder, trying to throw punches, but it was like fighting against steel bars. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he heard muttered over and over above his head, but the words meant nothing to him. He kept trying to push against the bands, the arms around his chest, but his muscles were beginning to weaken. 

Then, a twisting sensation, a shift reminiscent of looking at the world through the second sight, but it felt like it happened deep in his body. Within his soul. 

A murmured word that burned and scraped at his eardrums. 

He felt movement, like whoever was holding him had just thrown something. 

For a moment, it was as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. He couldn't breathe. Couldn’t open his eyes. 

The fear vanished. 

It disappeared completely, entirely gone. It felt like waking up from a nightmare. He was so shocked that Ryan just sat there, his mind blessedly silent. His limbs were still trembling, but it was from exhaustion, and his heart was already returning to a regular rhythm. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the breaking of the spell or shock that left him feeling so calm. 

It could have been a couple of minutes or it could have been an hour, but for a long time, Ryan just sat there and breathed. 

The arms around him shifted and it was embarrassing to finally realize that the person holding him was Shane. He let himself sink back against Shane’s chest, too tired and mentally drained to keep up any kind of pretense. 

“Ryan?” Shane asked, so much worry in his voice that Ryan made himself answer. 

“Hey,” he managed to rasp.

Shane let out a shaking breath, then tightened his hold in a brief hug. After the experience he had just lived through, Ryan didn’t have the energy to do more than just sit there. Exist. Shane's caress up and down his arm was soothing. 

He probably would have fallen asleep if Shane hadn’t been weirdly tense and jittery. Every few seconds, the man would move, tiny little shifts, like he had too much energy. Or really needed to piss. Since Shane would have no problem with just announcing that, it was something else.

Something was going on with Shane. 

Any other man and Ryan would have thought that they were uncomfortable with holding a shirtless male friend in a bed. But this was Shane. Things like that wouldn’t phase him in the slightest. Sluggishly, feeling like he was moving through molasses, Ryan managed to pull away, slowly shuffling around so that he could face Shane. 

The man was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare T-shirt, evidence of how fast he must have left his apartment to get to Ryan. Now that Ryan was no longer literally in his lap, he had pulled his legs into a cross-legged position. He was drumming his fingers on his thigh, a fast set of movements that drew the eye. 

An idea sparked, then another one. Ryan almost felt like his brain was rebooting. “Why didn’t you call dispatch?” Ryan didn’t like that his own words sounded slurred, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. 

Shane flashed him a tense smile, then dropped his eyes, like he couldn’t meet Ryan’s gaze. “Wasn’t thinking. Just had to get to you.”

That was sweet but also weirdly illogical for Shane, who always insisted on calling backup. Later, when he didn't feel like a used punching bag, he'd be sure to make fun of the man for it. 

“How did you break the curse by yourself?”

“Knew the spell,” Shane answered shortly, his fingers changing in their pattern. 

Ryan’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Wait. That didn’t- “That was a fear curse. Only demons and warlocks can do those. You shouldn’t have been able to break that.”

Dark brown eyes finally met his. “You just about died, Ryan,” Shane said, going still. Oddly intense. “If you hadn’t had your medallion on, you wouldn’t have even been able to call me.” 

Ryan glanced down at the innocent-looking metal, abruptly remembering that he was wearing it. 

“Can you just ignore how I broke it and be thankful that I did?”

“You know I can’t do that,” Ryan said, a faint echo of his usual stubbornness giving him the energy to scowl. “If you’re doing something illegal, if you’re getting black market spells-”

“Damn it, Ryan,” Shane snapped, too loud. “I just saved your life, can we relax for one damn second?”

“What the hell is up with you?”

Shane drug his hand through his hair. He started to say something, then shut his mouth. After a moment, he sighed and slumped forward, into Ryan’s space. “You nearly died, Ryan. You were so scared. If I-” He trailed off.

Ryan felt his own expression soften. He reached out to pat Shane’s knee. “You made it. I’m not going to stop questioning you, but...Thank you.” 

He started to pull back, but Shane caught his hand. The man’s fingers were long and warm, a gentle cage around his palm. Ryan raised his eyebrows in silent question. Shane was vibrating with energy, his gaze darting from Ryan’s eyes to his chest, then finally to his lips. 

_Did he just_ -

Shane leaned forward, slow enough that Ryan could have stopped him if he had wanted to. But Ryan was too confused, too thrown by what was happening to really react. He just watched, wide-eyed and disbelieving as Shane kissed him. 

Ryan couldn’t lie, not to himself. He had thought about this before. Many times. More often than was probably healthy. Thanks to a single, drunken night that he would never forget, for good or bad, he knew what Shane’s lips felt like. But it hadn’t gone farther than a simple brush of Ryan’s mouth against Shane’s. Ryan had had years to imagine more. 

This was different from anything he had pictured. 

Shane moved onto his knees, shifting closer, lips never breaking contact with Ryan. He was warm and smelled faintly of smoke. 

Ryan knew something was wrong. He _knew_ Shane wasn’t interested in him this way. 

But he was only human. And he had just about died. 

He tilted his head. Parted his lips. And let himself just experience the moment. 

Shane let go of his hand to cradle the back of his head, taking the invitation to deepen the kiss. Ryan whimpered when Shane licked across his bottom lip, nibbled gently, then practically invaded his mouth, taking control of Ryan’s tongue with an expertise that left him reeling. He couldn’t do much more than take it. Every time he tried to push back, tried to match Shane’s movements, the man would do something, some trick or slide of the tongue that made him gasp and melt. 

Fuck. Maybe it was the near-death experience, but Ryan had never been so quickly turned on by just a kiss. His muscles were still trembling, he was sticky from drying sweat, and his back was beginning to ache from the awkward kneeling position he was in. Somehow, it made everything better. 

The kiss was perfect in its imperfections. It made him forget himself, forget the situation. Addled by the way Shane was damn near making love to his tongue and the exhaustion that was clouding his judgement, lust made Ryan reach out, digging his fingers into Shane’s hair. 

Shane responded by moving closer, shifting and pressing Ryan into a prone position, following him down with a sinuous movement that should have been impossible for a such an awkwardly proportioned body. The press of Shane’s weight on top of him made Ryan groan. It turned out that he wasn’t too tired or traumatized to get hard, despite what he might have thought. 

Ryan turned his head, panting shallowly in an attempt to catch his breath. Shane didn’t even pause, beginning to kiss his way down Ryan’s jaw, a perfect combination of pressure and suction. Ryan couldn’t help but twist his neck to give Shane more access, the haze of lust making him whimper Shane’s name. 

His necklace was a gentle warmth on his chest.

Weirdly, it was Shane saying his name in turn that broke whatever spell of confusion that had fallen over Ryan. 

“Shane,” he said again hoarsely, tugging on the man’s hair to pull him back. Shane followed the prompt easily enough, though he kept most of his weight pressed down. His hips nestled so snugly against Ryan’s was distracting, but Ryan forced himself to pay attention to what he was seeing. 

Shane’s lips were bruised and wet and his hair was a fluffed up mess. Those were the only signs that he had just given Ryan the best kiss of his life and had been escalating to something more. Shane’s pupils weren’t dilated, he wasn’t breathing heavily, and from their position, Ryan was intimately aware that he wasn’t hard. 

Abruptly, Ryan felt terrible. 

He brought his hand up to the side of Shane’s face, gently stroking his skin while he had the opportunity to do so. “Shane, you're not thinking straight.” As soon as the sentence crossed his lips, he closed his eyes in a pained grimace. _Definitely the wrong word_.

He didn't have to see him to know that Shane was grinning. “No, I'm really not.”

Ryan opened his eyes just so he could glare, though he didn't bother to hide his smile. “You're not thinking _clearly_. Neither of us are. We need to stop... whatever this is. ”

Shane's grin fell, a frustrated frown twisting his features.

“I know you don’t want me,” Ryan continued softly. The words didn’t hurt to say, even though they should have. He had made his peace with their situation a long time ago. 

Shane took a breath to say something, then seemed to see something in Ryan’s expression. He looked away. Eventually dropped his head to rest it on Ryan’s shoulder. 

Ryan was barely able to hear the man’s mumbled words. “I want to want you.”

Oh. That was-Well. It was the kind of weirdly sweet thing that only Shane was capable of. “It’s okay, big guy. You can’t help how you are.”

Shane shook his head, his hair brushing against Ryan’s ear. “If only you knew. I’m sorry.”  
.  
“Hey, none of that. The only thing you have to apologize for is trying to distract me with a makeout session. And the hard-on that isn’t going to go away any time soon, you ass.”

Shane snorted. Took a deep breath. Then fucking licked Ryan’s ear. “I could take care of that for you, if you want?” he whispered, voice suddenly deep and rough, like some kind of damn phone sex operator. This was the exact opposite of what Ryan had intended.

“Jesus Christ,” he blurted. “Have you been taking lessons from an incubus? What the hell?”

“Something like that,” Shane said, rolling his body in a graceful, boneless wave that felt downright obscene. Ryan groaned and let his head fall back in a thump. 

“Fuck, how are you even doing that?”

A low, smug laugh was his answer. 

It would have been so easy to let Shane continue. The man was practically begging to do it. But Ryan had the feeling it came from guilt and the sudden realization of his mortality. As much as his body wanted him to agree, he wasn’t going to ruin their friendship. Not to mention their working relationship. 

And neither of them should be making decisions right now. They were both horribly emotionally compromised. 

Ryan managed to convince his arms to push at Shane, making him roll off. He didn’t whimper at the loss of contact, but it was a close thing. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, slowly sliding off the bed and clambering to his feet. 

“You want me to join you?” Shane offered, his grin a little off. A little too desperate. 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “You’re going to be even worse with your jokes now, aren’t you? No, don’t join me.”

He didn’t say anything about the sad, almost lost expression that crossed Shane’s face. It did tell him that stopping had been the best decision, though. That hadn’t been the expression of someone thinking logically. They both needed to calm down. To move past this moment. 

“Call to get someone over here with a better sensitivity to second sight,” Ryan said, trying to make himself sound decisive. He wasn’t sure how well it worked, but he could pretend. He started to walk shakily out of the room, snagging clothes on his way. Between the arousal and bone-deep exhaustion, it was a wonder that he didn't fall over. “I doubt Forensics can do anything, but maybe Lim or Fulmer will be able to determine what species cast the curse. Whoever is awake at five in the fucking morning. Christ.”

“Ryan,” Shane called, the hesitance in his voice doing more to make Ryan stop than any words could have. Ryan looked over his shoulder, hand against the door to support himself. 

A deep breath, then Shane looked away. Another inhale, a clear sign that he was trying to convince himself to say something. Finally, a little shake of his head, an annoyed grimace. “Nevermind.”

Normally, Ryan wouldn’t have let that go. He would have pressed until Shane admitted to whatever he was thinking about. But his mind was a mess of too many emotions that he didn’t know what to do with. It probably wasn’t important, anyways. 

Before leaving the room, Ryan took a second to just appreciate the sight of Shane on his bed, looking oddly vulnerable with his tousled hair and sleep clothes. This wasn’t exactly the circumstance that he had dreamed about, but he figured he needed to memorize the picture in front of him while he could. 

The only thing ruining it was the way Shane had gone back to tapping his long fingers against his leg. 

_Dude needs to calm the fuck down_. _He_ wasn’t the one with a persistent fucking boner that refused to go away. And lingering memories of such intense fear that he would probably need therapy. But that wasn’t very pleasant to think about. 

It was probably inevitable when he started jerking off in the shower. He had honestly tried to be good, but somewhere in between washing his hair and rinsing the dried sweat off of his body, his hand had wandered. 

There was no point in stopping or torturing himself with cold water. Knowing Shane, he would be teased for exactly this anyways, so he might as well continue. And he would be distracted all day if he didn't take care of it. Or at least, that was what he told himself.

It didn’t help that Ryan’s psyche was quite clearly choosing to focus on the visceral memory of Shane on top of him and the insanely expert way the man had kissed him, rather than confront the horror of the curse. 

And damn it, the squeeze and slide of his fingers felt _good_. Right before coming, he had a shameful, sinful thought. _Shane would do this for me_. He _had_ offered, almost desperately. Ryan was certain that if he called for him, Shane would be there instantly. Would reach into the shower, long fingers shaking from that weird manic energy, maybe from nerves. He would wrap his hand around Ryan's cock, maybe say something sarcastic, maybe just stare. A tentative, too gentle squeeze, then-

Fuck, Ryan hadn’t come so quickly from just his hand since high school. 

He leaned his head against the shower wall, trying to calm his weak knees and fast breath, when a knock on the bathroom door made him drop his dick so fast that he actually stumbled. 

“If you’re _finished_ ,” Shane said, leer muffled but understandable despite the closed door and running water. “Fulmer and Yang will be here soon. I’m assuming you’d rather be dressed by then, but it’s your apartment, buddy. Be naked and free if you want.”

“Motherfucker,” Ryan muttered under his breath, then raised his voice in a yell. “Fuck off, Shane! I’ve already nearly had a heart attack today.”

Shane's answering laugh shouldn't have been so endearing. 

By the time Fulmer and Yang arrived, Ryan had dressed in slacks and a button up, figuring that he was going to go straight to work anyways. The only things he left off were his tie and shoes, since it was his apartment, damn it. He wasn't going to free ball it, but he wasn't going to be uncomfortable, either.

It was odd to realize that co-workers were going to see his apartment. Were going to walk around and see his furniture, see the dirty dishes in the sink and the general lack of decoration on the walls. He resisted the urge to do last minute cleaning. They would only care about his metaphysical protections, not what his apartment looked like. Not for the first time, he was thankful that he worked for the relatively new and relaxed Preternatural Crimes Department of the LAPD. A magical attack like he had just experienced left no physical evidence, which meant that he wouldn’t have to deal with Forensics making a mess of his place. 

On the other hand, Fulmer probably wasn’t going to be very professional while looking through the leftover echoes of the curse. 

“Hey guys, thanks for coming so quickly,” Ryan said, greeting the two men at the front door. “Come on in, Eugene,” he added with a smile.

Yang gave him his usual close-lipped, faintly mocking smile in thanks, then stepped across the threshold casually. Ryan could feel the wards on the door ping against his awareness, alarm at a preternatural creature crossing their boundaries. So at least he knew they were still working. 

“I’m sorry that we’re visiting your home for the first time under these circumstances,” Fulmer said with a more genuine smile than his partner had given, shaking Ryan’s hand politely, like the put-together, successful adult that he was. “I hate to rush, but can you show me where the curse affected you right away? We’ve only got an hour before sunrise.”

“I’ll be fine,” Yang said quietly, sounding annoyed. He was standing next to the door, his focus on Shane, who was watching them from Ryan’s kitchen. Shane looked like he had paused in the middle of making food, though Ryan had no idea where he would have found eggs. The fact that he was over there was another sign of how odd Shane was acting, considering the man’s professed hatred of breakfast. For a brief moment, the lights in the kitchen made Shane’s eyes look oddly green. 

“Of course, though I was looking forward to the daily baby picture,” Ryan replied, gently mocking as he led them towards his bedroom. 

Fulmer’s smile went practically incandescent. “Well, if you’re interested, we got an adorable picture of-”

“Ned,” Yang interrupted. “When I said I would be fine, that didn’t include a half hour of staring at your spawn.”

“Ignore him,” Fulmer said to Ryan cheerfully. “Eugene has more pictures of the baby than me and Ariel combined.”

Ryan snorted, amused at the annoyed hissing noise that Yang made. He paused at his bedroom door, gesturing inside. “I was asleep, then something woke me up right at three. Witching hour. Then,” Ryan took a deep breath. This was hard to admit, despite knowing that he would get no censure from the two of them. “Fear. The most terror I’ve ever felt in my life. Whoever or whatever put that curse on me was powerful. Maybe even an eight on the scale.”

Fulmer raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m sorry you had to experience that,” he said while reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own set of second sight glasses. Ryan tried not to notice that they were a much nicer pair than his. “I’ve seen the results of that. How were you able to break it long enough to call Madej?”

“St. Michael’s medallion,” Ryan answered, absently patting it through his shirt. “Graduation gift from my family. It has a _ton_ of protections on it.”

“Well that’s lucky.”

Ryan thought about mentioning that it had an extra Madej family protection on it, but Fulmer was already slipping the glasses onto his face. He watched with some jealousy as Fulmer looked around the room with no trace of the discomfort that he would have felt. 

Fulmer was one of the best, however, a human who had scored a six on the Hickam Tests for sensitivity. It was unheard of for a human to score so high, so there was no reason to be jealous. Really. And Fulmer had barely managed a one on casting, so it probably balanced out. 

The Hickam Tests were a series of standardized tests from the 1970’s that measured a person’s sensitivity to magic, as well as casting ability. Ryan considered them the SATs of magic, although it wasn’t really possible to study for them. Humans usually scored between one and three, with outliers occasionally reaching a five. Ryan and Shane were both rare, humans that had scored a five in both sensitivity and casting, which was why they were able to be partners. The Department usually partnered humans and supernatural beings together, so that each pair would always have someone that could cast the needed spells. 

It didn’t always work out, with the racial prejudices that cropped up between humans and every other species being what they were, but there was hope that the future would show more tolerance. Yang and Fulmer were a perfect example of two people that should not have worked as partners, but meshed together so well that they had become one of the dream teams of the PIU. Ryan was certain that the Fulmers were the only family to have a vampire godfather for their child. 

Fulmer stepped forward, distracting Ryan from his thoughts. The man was frowning thoughtfully, his gaze focused on the head of the bed. “It was definitely a demon,” he said, absently crouching down to get a closer look at Ryan’s pillow. “The power is too pure to have come from a warlock.”

Even knowing the man was seeing far more than just a pillow and some sheets, Ryan felt a little awkward at the sight of Fulmer staring so closely at his bed. Not even thirty minutes ago, he and Shane had nearly-

_No, now is not the time to think about that. ___

__“A powerful demon,” Fulmer said, thinking out loud. “But…”_ _

__Yang slid past Ryan into the room, so silent that Ryan didn’t notice he was moving until he was already next to Fulmer. Fuck, he hated when vampires did that. “What is it?” Yang asked when the man didn’t continue._ _

__“I’m not…” Fulmer shook his head, then glanced up at Ryan, his mouth open to ask a question. He paused. Squinted. “You said that medallion was a gift?”_ _

__Ryan brought his hand up in an unconscious gesture, shielding the necklace from view even though it was already under his shirt. “Um. Yes? Is something wrong with it?”_ _

__Fulmer blinked. Shook his head again. “No, it’s just really bright. Keep that thing close to you.”_ _

__“What were you going to say?” Yang prompted._ _

__“Right. Well. I think there were two demons involved in this curse. And-” Fulmer drew in a deep breath. Took the glasses off. “Madej shouldn’t have been able to break it.”_ _

__“The medallion weakened the curse,” Shane said from the doorway, making everyone jump. Yang actually took a full step back, hissing once in surprise, fangs out. Ryan didn’t blame him, because what the hell? How had Shane gotten so close without anyone noticing? Especially the _vampire_. _ _

__Shane continued, as if he hadn’t just scared the shit out of the rest of them. “I knew the spell to break it and I could sense a weak spot. I just directed it towards that.”_ _

___Bullshit_. _ _

__It took a large effort of will to not call Shane out on that lie. But if what Ryan suspected was true, he would be getting Shane in huge trouble if he said something about it._ _

__Black market spells were enough to get a person thrown in jail._ _

__Not that Shane was doing a good job of looking very trustworthy right now. He had refused any of Ryan’s clothes, on principle of them being too small, so he was the only one in the room in an old T-shirt and sweatpants. He was also obviously jittery, a twitchy cast to his face that made it hard to meet his eyes. Really, Shane was doing a great impression of an addict._ _

__“Dude, are you fucking high?” Eugene blurted, having recovered from his surprise. Then he winced._ _

__Shane grinned, the expression wide, a little unhinged. “You’ve been hanging out with Zach and Keith too much.”_ _

__“Can you show me the spell you used?” Fulmer interjected, before the two could devolve into an argument._ _

__A jerky nod from Shane. “Later. At work.”_ _

__Fulmer was too polite to question that answer, but it was clear he wanted to. “Then we should probably head back. I’m not going to see anything else. There’s too much interference whenever the energy echos of two demons mix together like this.”_ _

__Ryan furrowed his brow, his lips turned down in a flat frown. “You think two demons worked together to try and kill me with a fear curse? I really only know the one demon and I doubt Gibson would bother to try.”_ _

__Shane rocked back on his heels, then made a weird little motion with his hands, curling his fingers into his palms. Ryan did his best to ignore the man._ _

__“I’m not sure they were working together,” Fulmer said after a moment of hesitation. “The power didn’t look like it was tied together enough for that. I’ll write a full report after we get back to the station and you can take a look at that. Eugene? Station or your house?”_ _

__“Station.”_ _

__“Alright. Sorry I couldn’t see anything else, Bergara.”_ _

__Ryan shrugged. “It was a long shot, but thanks for coming.”_ _

__“No problem,” Fulmer said with another polite smile. “We’ll see you later.”_ _

__After walking the two of them back towards his front door, Ryan was fully prepared to finish getting ready for work, and then follow them to the station. Maybe pick up real coffee on the way, since the stuff he would get at work was the equivalent of drinking brown water._ _

__He wasn’t expecting to be cornered in his own kitchen by 6’4" of an intensely energetic Shane. At first he thought Shane was going to try for another weirdly good, platonic kiss, but the man just ducked down to meet his eyes._ _

__“What the fu-”_ _

__“One demon.”_ _

__“...What the fuck?”_ _

__Shane didn’t blink, just continued to stare at Ryan. His eyes were mesmerizingly dark in the bright lights of the kitchen. “It was one demon that attacked you.”_ _

__“But Fulmer _just said_ -”_ _

__“Fulmer wasn’t there when the curse was active,” Shane interrupted. “I was in the middle of it, I could feel it. It was just the one.”_ _

__“Then why was he seeing power echos of two?”_ _

__“I-” Shane groaned, obviously frustrated. “I don’t know, okay? Just- Trust me. Please?”_ _

__It was impossible to say no when Shane was looking at him like that._ _

__That didn’t mean Ryan was going to forget this moment. Or how suspicious Shane was being._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the awesome comments and kudos! You guys are the best. I'm glad to see some return readers :D
> 
> The plan is to update at least once a week! Assuming that work cooperates with me...


	3. Chapter 3

There was never a time where a member of the Preternatural Investigations Unit wasn’t working multiple cases. They were essentially detectives, with all that the label entailed, from being overworked to endless mountains of paperwork. The only reason they weren’t afforded the luxury of the title was because their Department was fairly new within the power system of the LAPD. The Detective Bureau was stalling on adding a magic crimes unit and the PIU had stopped asking for the right to call its members ‘detectives’ after a few years. 

It was a tangle of politics that Ryan didn’t really care about, beyond the fact that it would have been a pay raise to put ‘Detective’ in front of his name. None of it mattered to the fact that he was trying to work on so much at once that he was beginning to mix up case details. They was understaffed to an alarming degree, but there were few humans and even fewer supernatural beings that were willing to join. There wasn’t even a clear division of who would investigate what. Everyone investigated everything, from basic burglary to arson to homicide. 

It was something of a mess. 

So by the time a few hours had passed, Ryan was desperately trying to remember if he had already called the selkie that was a suspect in a drowning or if he was confusing that case with the human man who had kidnapped a mermaid. Or had he already closed the drowning? Was he thinking of something Shane had been working on?

Shane suddenly standing next to his desk was massively disconcerting. It was like he had been summoned by Ryan’s thought. He jerked back, then glared up at the man. “I’m putting a bell on you.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Shane said, wiggling his eyebrows. He had finally calmed down from whatever high he had been on earlier, which Ryan was thankful to see. The man had been damn near bouncing off the walls. If anything, he seemed to have gone to the opposite end of the energy scale, moving a little sluggishly.

That morning seemed like it had happened so long ago. It was odd to realize that he had nearly died to demonic spells twice in the past two days. 

“What do you want, long legs?”

Shane scoffed, then nodded towards the elevator. “The MEs want to talk to us about Johnson, the dead fae.”

Ryan made a face, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He liked Kornfield and Habersberger well enough, but their jobs, however necessary, were disgusting. It was hard to talk to them sometimes, since their blasé attitudes towards dead bodies was something Ryan thought he never would get used to. And he had been working as an officer for over four years. 

He saved everything on his computer, even if he hadn’t made any progress, then logged out. Following Shane was always something of a treat, so he didn’t bother to hurry after the man. It was more fun to appreciate the figure he cut in his slacks and holster. 

The visceral memory of lips trailing down his neck stole over Ryan and he nearly ran into a desk. _Fuck_ , now was not the time to remember that. 

Shane paused midstride, probably having heard Ryan’s muttered swear, then looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. He was smirking. 

Ryan glared at him, hoping his slight flush wasn’t noticeable. 

Judging by the way Shane’s expression went smug, he wasn’t fooling anyone. Thank God Ruggirello and her partner weren’t present, since they probably would have smelled his embarrassment. 

Arguing and bantering with Shane like he normally did was the only reason Ryan was able to walk so casually into the morgue room. He wasn’t often in this room, since their medical examiners usually just summed everything up in a report and submitted it to him via email. But there were times when he had needed to ask a question and doing it in person was faster than waiting around for someone to notice his email. 

Not that he often had questions pressing enough to warrant forcing himself into a room where bodies were stacked in shelves like some sort of macabre library. Morgues, mortuaries, examining rooms, any place where he was likely to encounter cold, dead, dissected bodies, they all made him nauseous. It wasn’t even because of the bodies themselves. Gore and viscera were things he had grown used to over the years. But something about the finality of it, the cold, impersonal way that each body was treated in these rooms was enough to make him horribly uncomfortable. 

Even homicide scenes still held a trace of life to them, of horrible, vicious emotion. 

Maybe it was a reminder of his own mortality, of the way his body was just a flesh and bone machine. Without his soul his body wouldn’t be _him_. It raised far too many questions about faith and his purpose in the world. About what it was that actually made him who he was. 

The importance of it, of his soul, was one of the many reasons why he didn’t like demons. What exactly happened to the soul of the person that had been possessed? Sometimes, after an exorcism and banishment, the original owner of the body returned. Most of the time, they didn't. And all that was left was a breathing corpse. No one knew why some could be saved and others couldn't.

Demons were a vivid representation of everything Ryan didn’t understand about the universe, from their ability to take over bodies to their very origin. 

No one knew where the beings that called themselves demons came from. The number of debates on the matter that had sprung up over the past century was astounding. And of course, the demons themselves refused to answer. All anyone knew for sure was that they could be banished permanently back to wherever it was they came from. 

Ryan came to the realization that he was staring unseeing at the body of Purple Hair- Johnson. The fae was laid out an examination table, the Y-incision on his torso thankfully sewn shut. 

“You know, I’ve heard that the most of the detectives over at Homicide don’t even know where their morgue is,” he said wistfully. “They just get the autopsy reports. They don’t even have to talk to the medical examiner.”

“Fucking wimps,” Shane drawled. 

Ryan grinned, tearing his gaze off the body. His attention was caught by the table covered in cheap, half-melted candles and he rolled his eyes. Other departments didn’t have a candle budget, either. 

“Oh good, you guys are here.”

They turned around to see Kornfield coming in from a different door, his lab coat dripping with something. As he got closer, Ryan caught a whiff of burnt hair and bubblegum. Which was not a combination he had ever wanted to smell. 

“Do I want to know what that is?”

Kornfield looked down at his clothes. “Ah, don’t worry about it. An experiment didn’t uh, work the way I thought it would.”

Ryan crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, amused despite himself. “Does Captain Williams know that you’re still doing your ‘experiments’?”

“Not...really,” was the answer, Kornfield wincing as he crossed over to the table full of candles and started lighting candles one by one with a wave of his fingers. “It was Keith’s idea.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

Shane sighed impatiently, although Ryan could hear a smile in his voice. “Why exactly did you make us come down here?”

“Because,” Kornfield said, lighting the last candle with a flourish. “Your fae doesn’t have a soul.”

It took a second for those words to sink in. “What?” Ryan asked, unsure if he had heard correctly. Shane had gone completely still next to him. 

“Yeah, that was my reaction, too. I did the ritual twice, but nothing,” Kornfield said, rolling up his left sleeve, then pulling an ornate, filigreed scalpel out of his pocket. Ryan still had no clue how the man had never stabbed his thigh with that thing. “I couldn’t find anything during the autopsy. Johnson’s cause of death was rather obvious, since the demon pulverized his vertebrae and spinal cord when snapping his neck, but that was the only interesting thing about his body.”

With the nonchalant, steady motions of someone who had done this hundreds of times before, Kornfield drew the scalpel across the back of his forearm. A thin line of blood seeped out of the cut, then dripped down his arm. As soon as a drop hit one of the candle flames, a peculiar feeling of intense atmospheric pressure fell over the room. 

In addition to being one of the three medical examiners that worked for the Preternatural Crimes Department, Kornfield was also the only necromancer. He was, truthfully, of average ability in both professions, but the fact that he was something of a two-for-one deal meant that he was the busiest ME in the PCD. 

For him to have called them down meant he had something important to show them. And an intelligent being lacking a soul definitely counted. 

Ryan had watched this ritual a few times before, so he knew better than to say anything when Kornfield’s eyes rolled back in his head and he started chanting, twisting, snarled words that were oddly soothing in their entirety. It was a dangerous lullaby.

The heavy, expectant feeling in the air pressed down, making it hard to breath. Ryan turned towards Johnson’s corpse, waiting for it to sit up. 

Nothing happened. 

Kornfield said a word in a sharp tone, a command. The air pressed against Ryan’s skin, growing heated. Shane leaned forward, his attention focused so hard on the corpse that he looked like a cat about to pounce. 

With a _snap_ that should have been audible, but could only be felt, the growing power in the room burst, then rushed away. All of the candle flames snuffed out at once. Ryan took a deep, gulping breath, feeling like he had just surfaced from a pool. 

Johnson’s body remained stubbornly still. 

That was not good. 

Kornfield wobbled on his feet, shook his head, then reached for a paper towel off of a handy roll and wiped the blood off his arm, revealing a thin scar. “So yeah,” he said, sounding breathless. “I’m getting nothing. No connection at all.”

“Could someone by blocking you? Could he have had some kind of anti-necromancy spell on him?” Ryan asked, his eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tried to remember college classes about the subject.

“No, I would have still sensed a connection to his soul,” Kornfield answered, blinking a few times. He snapped his fingers again and the paper towel went up in a burst of flame. Showoff. “When I say I’m getting nothing, I mean _nothing_. If I hadn’t done the autopsy myself, I would have thought his body was just a really good mannequin. From a metaphysical standpoint, any sign that Johnson was a sentient being is completely gone.”

Ryan swallowed, a sense of unease sweeping over him. “What could cause the soul to disappear completely like that?”

Here, Kornfield hesitated, looking troubled. He turned to start wiping ashes off the table, obviously trying to keep his hands busy. “I have a theory. One that’s going to sound crazy.”

“I’m all about crazy theories,” Ryan said, trying to smile against the faint dread. 

Both of them paused, waiting for the inevitable joke from Shane. 

It never came. Shane was still staring at the body, eerily silent. 

Kornfield side-eyed Shane, then took a deep breath. “What if the demon ate Johnson’s soul?”

“That-that’s not possible.”

“Do we know that for sure?” Kornfield asked, sounding as disturbed by the idea as Ryan felt. “You said in your report that you saw the attacking demon eat the demon that was possessing Johnson. What if Johnson’s soul was consumed in the process?”

Ryan managed to stop the shiver that question caused, but just barely. The magical community in America used the term ‘soul’ because of the country’s majorly Christian population and for lack of a better term. Spirit, chi, soul, whatever someone wanted to call it, they all meant the same thing. The metaphysical energy that powered the body, that turned a creature into a thinking, feeling being. 

But, no matter how professional Ryan tried to be, the religious connotations to the word still meant something to him. The idea of a demon fucking _eating_ someone’s soul was somehow worse than the idea of a soul being condemned to a eternity of torture. Demons could feed off of auras and emotions, but the energy always grew back. It was terrible, yes, but it wasn't the _soul_.

“Fuck,” he muttered, half to himself. “Just when I thought demons couldn’t get any worse. I wish they would all stay in Hell.” ‘Where they belong’ went unsaid, but was perfectly understood. 

Shane looked up at him, a sudden sharp movement that was downright startling. His expressive face twisted into something resembling anger, then a deep frustration and sadness that Ryan had never seen before. He opened his mouth to say something, then glanced at the body before walking out of the room. 

Kornfield did an awkward little shuffle. “Uh...Did I say something?”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Ryan said over his shoulder as he hurried after Shane. 

Four years of working together and Ryan had never seen Shane look so torn. Not even the night before had produced such an expression. Worry over the case was pushed aside in favor of worry for his best friend. He went through two hallways before catching sight of the man. 

Shane was standing against a wall, leaning his head on the surface as he gazed up at the ceiling. In the harsh, fluorescent lights, he looked pale and drawn. If Ryan hadn’t known better, he would have thought Shane was crying. And that was a more terrifying thought than even soul-eating demons. 

“Are you okay?”

_Real smart question there, good job._

The fact that Shane didn’t reply with something sarcastic was a good indication of just how bad things were. He shrugged, then swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing like he had just forced back a sob. 

Was this the inevitable fallout of Shane’s previous manic high? 

There was one thing that Ryan could think of that would cause this reaction, and it was something they had never actually talked about. Some things were too heavy, even for a best friend. 

“Is this...is this about your family?”

Shane scoffed, a wet-sounding noise. “In a manner of speaking.”

Ryan drifted closer, then hesitantly sat his hand on Shane’s arm. “You can tell me, if you want.”

A long, deep sigh. “No, Ryan. I can’t.”

That wasn’t an entirely unexpected reaction, considering the subject at hand. 

The Madej family had been, at one point in time, infamous in the supernatural community. Old World demon hunters that had tried to make a new life in America. From what Ryan had read, they had been pretty badass. When the supernatural secret had made its presence known after World War Two, the Madejs had been one of the few bastions of common sense and protection in a world that suddenly made no sense. 

They weren’t remembered much anymore, but for a time the family had been one of the few reliable sources of information about the creatures that had been living next to humans since the beginning of history. And all of that information was passed down, from parent to child, in a long, unbroken string of hunters that stretched back centuries. 

Until Shane, anyways. Thanks to a horrific car accident that only he had survived, the Madej family was nearly completely gone in America. Shane was the only one left. 

He never talked about it. 

It was only after Ryan had known him for a couple of years, and had gotten curious enough to look it up, that he had learned there were suspicions that the car accident had been orchestrated by demons. It could have been the same kind of crackpot theory that also said the pyramids were built by aliens. But it made a sick kind of sense, as well. The historic case of Madej v. Sentax had set a precedent that shaped demon law into what it was today. Without the family’s knowledge, demons would have had much more free reign in the human world. It seemed entirely plausible that they would want revenge.

Ryan had never mentioned the ‘accident’ theory to Shane, since it seemed like an old wound that he didn’t want to open. And Shane had an ambivalent relationship with demons that Ryan didn’t want to disrupt. _One_ of them needed to know how to be polite to demons, and it wasn't going to be Ryan.

But _something_ in the morgue room had set Shane off. Ryan knew that it could have been something entirely inconsequential. Hell, he’d once sat down and cried at his own kitchen table because he had set his microwave for three minutes instead of thirty seconds, ruining his food. It had been a stressful week, and that tiny incident had been the thing that he just couldn’t handle. So he wasn’t judging Shane right now. He just wanted the man to feel better. 

And maybe not break down in the middle of the hallway, where anyone could see it. Thank God they were in the basement, where few people needed to go. 

A couple of tears slipped from Shane’s eye, tracking down his cheek. 

Ryan panicked a little. 

In all the time that he had known Shane, he had only seen the man cry once, and that had been when they had found the mutilated body of a young dryad boy stuffed in a freezer. Everyone involved in that case had been affected. 

So he had no idea how to deal with Shane when he was so visibly upset. In public. Not that he was, uh, ashamed to be seen with a crying man or anything, it was just that, well, _they were men_. He was intensely aware of the fact that anyone could come down the hallway at any moment. 

“Hey, whoa, buddy, it’s okay,” Ryan said, voice embarrassingly high. He squeezed his hand around Shane’s arm, not sure what else he could do. 

Shane started laughing, sounding a little deranged. “I’m so fucking sick of these _emotions_ ,” he said shakily. “I don’t know how anyone can stand them. Most of the time I can handle it, but sometimes-They’re too much, too real. How do you get anything done?”

“Rude, but uh...It’ll be alright, big guy,” Ryan tried to offer, pressing his side against the line of Shane’s body in an attempt to give the man some comfort. 

“Fuck, I’m sick of lying to you.” This was mumbled, so low that it wouldn’t have been heard if Ryan hadn’t been right there. Well, that sure seemed to confirm Ryan’s suspicions of what he had been up to. If Shane was trying to become an unregistered warlock, Ryan was going to kick his lanky ass. 

After they moved passed this emotional crisis, anyways. 

Christ, it had been a long, stressful couple of days. No wonder they were both on the edge of breaking down. 

“And I’m sick of you saying weirdly suspicious things,” Ryan said, only half-joking. Once they had some free time, he was going to sit Shane down and have a long talk with him about doing illegal things. And lying. Before or after the ass-kicking, he hadn’t decided yet.

This laugh sounded more genuine. Shane wiped his hand under his eyes, then stared for a second at the wetness on his skin, as if surprised to see it there. 

“Let’s talk about the case, okay? Like the adult, working cops that we are,” Ryan said, gently teasing, hoping to cause at least a smile. “And maybe stop crying in the hallway?”

“Ryan, you cried at Marley and Me.”

He nearly melted in relief. “Fuck you, Madej, everyone cried at Marley and Me. You’re just an unfeeling monster.”

Shane tilted his head so that he could give Ryan a disbelieving look from the corner of his reddened eye. “You cried at _Paddington_.”

“Don’t you dare say anything bad about that movie.”

A quiet laugh was his answer, and they both relaxed into a much more comfortable silence. After a few moments, Shane let out a long breath, then straightened against the wall. “So. Lay out the facts.”

Now that Shane didn’t sound like he was going to break down, Ryan let himself enjoy the contact between them, the warm line created by their arms pressing together. “About the demon or the kidnapped children?”

“The demon.”

“Well, we’ve got one illegal demon possessing a fae, another illegal demon eating the first one. And maybe eating Johnson’s soul,” Ryan said, grimacing. “Is that even possible or do you think Kornfield just can’t reach it?”

“It’s possible,” Shane said quietly, his expression going distant. But he sounded like he was still in the moment when he continued with, “If you look far enough back, there’s documentation of it.”

“Shit,” Ryan breathed. “Well. Don’t get possessed, I guess.”

Shane turned to stare at him, then rolled his eyes. 

“What?”

“Nothing. So the question is why our perp demon went after the one in Johnson?”

Ryan frowned in thought. “And why did he leave his host body so quickly? What was it he said? ‘Why do you think I want this body’?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s really strange.” Ryan absentmindedly leaning more of his weight against Shane, making himself comfortable. “Most illegal demons will do anything to keep the body they’ve stolen.”

Shane made a frustrated noise. 

Ryan ignored him, continuing on his train of thought. “You said that powerful demons can hide in auras? Do you think-No. It’s stupid,” he cut himself off. Then continued anyways, because he wasn’t very good at stopping himself from voicing his weirder theories. “We’re assuming our suspect is an illegal demon, but what if he’s not? What if he’s powerful enough to have a contract and has a body somewhere? I know that the demon that calls himself Lucifer has multiple hosts.”

He was expecting Shane to tell him he was being too paranoid, or at best, to tell him that he actually had a good theory for once. He wasn’t expecting Shane to stare at him like he had just suggested cannibalism as an end to world hunger. 

“What? I think it’s a good theory.”

Shane shook his head, then took a deep breath. “The demon that cursed you was powerful. At least an eight.”

Ryan felt like his heart tripped as he followed along with Shane’s line of thought. “Wait, you think the demon that killed Johnson is the same one that cursed me?”

“It makes a lot of sense if he decided to finish what the first spell couldn’t.”

It wasn’t until the chain dug into his skin that Ryan realized he was clutching at his medallion. He really didn’t want to think about a demon holding a grudge against him. “What about you? He could try to go after you, too.”

Shane made a dismissive little hum, which was an annoying response considering that Ryan was just trying to show concern. “I doubt it, he didn’t even notice me.”

“You held a gun to his head, Shane, I think he noticed you.”

“To the host’s head. A demon that doesn’t care about staying in his host isn’t going to care about something like that.”

The sound of footsteps echoing down the hallways abruptly reminded the both of them that they were just standing around, not really accomplishing anything. Habersberger walked passed, giving them a weird look. “Shit,” Ryan muttered when the ME was out of hearing distance, and glanced down at his watch. “I’ve got to call someone in ten minutes. Meet up for lunch?”

Shane nodded absently, pushing away from the wall. 

It was difficult for Ryan to force himself to think about any of his numerous other cases, but there was a priority to these things. And a demon killing a fae wasn’t considered very important. Or at least, not as important as kidnapped human children. 

Verity Miller had given up one name before Gibson had showed Ruggirello out of the interrogation room, and Ryan was trying to track down any information he could. Unfortunately, fae intentionally picked common last names in order to better blend in with human society. Trying to track down one ‘Aster Smith’ was proving surprisingly difficult, even with the rare first name. Most of his results were octogenarian humans. 

By the time lunch rolled around, Ryan was more than looking forward to a break. He and Shane always took their lunch hour late, so his stomach was making its impatience known. After shutting down his computer, he wandered over to Shane, who was staring unseeing at his own. It didn’t look like he had gotten much work done. 

“Come on, Madej, let’s get food,” Ryan said, gently kicking one of the wheels on Shane’s chair. 

Shane came back to himself with a little jerk, then glanced at the time on his screen. “Actually,” he said slowly, clicking out of everything. “I think I’m going to have to skip lunch. I have some things I need to look into this afternoon, so I’m going to head out now to beat traffic on the 405.”

Ryan let his hands rest on his hips, frowning. If Shane was saying this so carefully, then it meant it was about _his_ case and the fear curse. The PIU was lax compared to the rest of the LAPD, but they still didn’t allow an officer to work a case that directly involved them. Even having Shane work it was skirting procedure. 

But nothing said he couldn’t _assist_ Shane. 

“I’ll come with you,” he offered after thinking about what he had left to do for the day. “I’ve got plenty of calls that I can make while in the car. We can grab something to eat on the way.”

Shane hesitated, then rubbed at the back of his neck, which was a huge tell coming from him. “Uh, you might want to sit this one out. I left a frozen dinner in the breakroom icebox. If you want it.”

Ryan paused, his eyes narrowing. “Why?”

A wince. “Meeting with some informants.”

That wasn’t something that Ryan would care about, so why would- 

“Illegal demons, Shane? Really?” Ryan hissed, dropping his voice and hoping that none of the vampire or werewolf officers were around. “Or is this a warlock? You _know_ they’re arrested for a reason.”

“Yeah, the ‘criminal’ part of ‘criminal informant’ was a pretty good indicator,” Shane said at a normal volume, one eyebrow raised. “Just stay here and you won’t have to deal with the big, scary, demons. 

“Fuck you,” Ryan scowled, making an abrupt decision in a fit of stubborn pride. “I’m coming with you. What if the demon that sent the curse decides to go after you as well? You can’t fight that off by yourself.”

Shane sighed. “Ryan-”

“And we’re stopping for lunch.”

The hour long drive to Shane’s first destination did nothing to calm Ryan down. Neither did the fast food that Shane had shoved at him. He had known that Shane had informants, just like he did, and he knew that Shane was oddly ambivalent towards demons, especially considering the man’s family history. But he had never put the two facts together in his head. He wasn’t thrilled that he was going to have to watch Shane deal with those damned jockeys. 

And another thought kept presenting itself, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Just _where_ had Shane gotten the black market spell that had broken the curse? Ryan had to admit that he was extremely grateful that Shane had access to such a thing, since it had saved his life, but it was still _illegal_. Was Shane _actually_ trying to become an unregistered warlock? Ryan had been doing his best not to think about it, but Shane’s actions had put him in a precarious position. It was his job to report crimes, but he couldn’t do that to his best friend and man he was in love with. 

Not to mention the fact that he was still trying to wrestle with the knowledge that Shane had broken a law in the first place. It was throwing everything he had thought he had known about the man into disarray. 

They arrived at a tiny strip mall that was half abandoned, only a few stores hanging on to life. One of those was a dingy little pawnshop, with windows that probably hadn’t been washed since the building was built. Ryan’s lip curled in distaste, until Shane told him to put his second sight glasses on. 

The haze of shitty, low powered protection enchantments covered the pawnshop. They probably couldn’t warn the owner about a human robber, let alone a supernatural one. Ryan wondered why they had even bothered. 

Underneath the protections, he could just make out a veritable trove of weak charms and spells, some of them sparking chaotically off of each other. 

“Huh,” Ryan said, squinting to see if he could make out any more details through the building’s walls. “So this isn’t just a really bad fence?”

“A fence working out of a pawnshop? Really? I know we live next to Hollywood, but that was a tired cliché twenty years ago, let alone now.”

Ryan glared at Shane, even as he tried to hide his smile. “I literally know of three different fences that work out of pawnshops, you overgrown bobblehead.”

Shane’s mouth quirked into that half smile that Ryan loved so much, the one Shane gave when he thought Ryan was being funny but didn’t want to admit to it. “This guy is actually legit. His schtick is low level enchantments that barely work, but it appeals to the average human that wants to get something ‘magical’ without paying much for it.”

Through the sight of the glasses, Ryan could see Shane’s human aura, a warm color that was almost gold, almost orange. He had never been able to accurately describe auras, but Shane’s always made him feel comforted. But a corner of his mind reminded him of the suspicious way Shane had been acting, and he started to scan for the signs of a demonic contract without even realizing it. If Shane was only summoning demons, trying to set up a contract with one, it would show somehow. Usually in the form of jagged holes in the aura, where the demon had fed. 

But it was the same as it always had been. 

Ryan nearly sighed out loud in relief. Maybe it wasn't too late to stop his best friend from going down the slippery path of demon summoning. 

Shane was giving him a weird look, his expressive eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Ryan realized he was waiting for a response, so he reviewed what Shane had just said, then asked, “Then why are we here?” 

“Because the guy employs an illegal demon sometimes. Are you uh, feeling okay?”

“Huh?”

With a little gesture at his own eyes, Shane said, “You’ve been wearing the glasses for quite a while.”

Ryan automatically brought his hand up to the glasses, abruptly realizing that he’d had them on for a over a minute and didn’t feel like his head was going to explode. He did have a headache, but it was a tame, manageable pain that hadn’t even registered. 

“What the hell?” he muttered to himself, pulling them off to look at them. There weren’t any scratches on the lenses or marks on the earpieces that could have broken the enchantments. And he knew they were working, because he had been able to see the spells in the shop. But for some reason, he felt mostly fine. By all rights, he should have been on his way to a migraine. “Maybe I’m getting used to them?”

Shane took a breath, staring intently at Ryan, then obviously changed his mind on what he was about to say. He opened his car door, putting one foot outside. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “Come or stay, but I’m going to get this over with.”

After scrambling to put his glasses into their case, Ryan hurried after Shane, a little annoyed at how erratically Shane had been behaving lately. This wasn’t the man’s usual method of acting like a dick to be funny. He was clearly distracted by something. 

The shop looked as dingy and dirty as Ryan had assumed. And a hell of a lot more crowded. Items were haphazardly piled on every surface, in some vague attempt at organization by type. Even Ryan had to duck under the guitars hanging from the ceiling, the price tags dangling from each instrument proclaiming very minor spells and enhancements. Shane was doing an awkward sideways shuffle to keep his head clear, which was going a long ways towards making Ryan feel better about _everything_. If he had known he was going to be witness to this, he would have gotten his phone out to record a video. 

Slouched over the surprisingly sturdy-looking counter was a small, dark-haired man, his nose buried in an old romance novel. “Buying or selling?” he asked absently.

“Pech.”

The man looked up, then quickly dropped the book and straightened up. “Ah, Madej, I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” the man said with a bright smile. He looked genuinely happy to see Shane, which was not what Ryan was used to when talking to informants. “Is this your partner? It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Jorge Pech, but everyone calls me Izzy.”

Ryan nodded awkwardly, trying not to show how taken aback he was by the cheerful greeting. “Uh. Bergara. Nice to meet you, Pech.” He refused to call this man ‘Izzy’. What the fuck. 

Pech turned his attention back towards Shane, spreading his hands on the counter as he leaned forward in a friendly way. “So what can I do for you? We got some nice bone charms in the other day, and I might be able to scrounge up some fae blood if-”

“Is Marcus around?” Shane said quickly, interrupting the man before he could say anything else. 

Too late, because Ryan was already planning on very thoroughly looking into this place later. Bone charms were highly controlled and selling fae blood was straight up illegal. He didn’t care what Shane said, there was a difference between having an informant and letting someone get away scot free. 

Good God, just how much had Shane been hiding from him? And _how_? They spent the majority of their days together. When did he even have the time?

The cheerful expression on Pech’s face finally faltered. He seemed to slump, resting on his elbows and taking a deep breath. “I guess you wouldn’t have heard. Marcus- uh, well. Marcus is dead.”

Ryan couldn’t see Shane’s expression, but it must have been quite a sight if the way Pech flinched was any indication. “Marcus is dead or _Marcus_ is dead?” he asked with clear emphasis. 

After a quick glance in Ryan’s direction, Pech quietly said, “Both? He hasn’t come back in any new bodies. Maybe he was banished. I’m sorry, man. I know you two were friends.”

“What happened?” Shane asked sharply, his voice carefully controlled. 

Pech’s voice got even softer, like he was afraid his own walls could hear him. “They found his body outside his apartment. No one knows exactly what went down, but his neck was snapped.”

He didn’t have the whole story, but Ryan could put two and two together. They were talking about an illegal demon, who had died in the same way that Johnson had. And it was unlikely they were unrelated deaths. 

Which meant that their cannibal demon had now eaten at least two other demons. Why? What was he doing?

“What about Steinbeck?”

“Allison?” Pech asked. “You didn’t hear? She completely disappeared about a month ago.”

Shane suddenly leaned forward, forcing Pech to jerk back. “And you didn’t think to contact me?!” he said in a voice that verged on an actual growl. “No demon just leaves their territory.”

Pech’s eyes went wide in actual fear as he cowered away from Shane. Ryan unconsciously took a step forward, concerned and confused. Shane could be intimidating at times, but never to the extent that made someone scared. 

“Madej, I-”

The lights dimmed and Ryan glanced up, then twisted to look behind himself, sure that he had heard whispering voices. 

There was no one behind him. 

_What the-_

An intense headache blindsided him, making him completely forget about the voices. He hissed in pain and brought his hands up to his head. Fuck, that had to have been from his glasses. But why was it only hitting him now? Absently, he rubbed at his chest, comforted by the warmth of his medallion. 

He brought his hands down and looked towards the counter. And stared. Because Pech was looking at Shane with a wide-eyed, terrified expression. It was the same expression that Miller had worn after Shane had asked him a single question. 

Just what the hell had Ryan missed?

Pech said something in an awed, shaking tone. To Ryan it almost sounded like he said ‘Coke can’, but that probably wasn’t right. Not unless Pech was creative with his swearing. 

Shane shook his head and straightened, the tense line of his shoulders relaxing to their usual slouch. “If you hear of anything else like this, you call me.” He still sounded annoyed. 

“Yes,” Pech nodded fervently. “Of course, sir.”

That didn’t sound like the normal ‘sir’ that people addressed police officers with. That had been said with real respect. 

Ryan frowned, _knowing_ he was missing something and not liking it. Only a second had passed while he had looked away from the two of them. Nothing could have happened in that time to make Pech look at Shane with such scared reverence. 

Not unless he had cast a spell that Ryan hadn’t noticed. But that would have been a waste of energy. 

Well. A waste of energy if Shane wasn’t a warlock. _Fuck_. 

Not even the sight of Shane trying to dodge all of the instruments hanging from the ceiling or the carefully cheerful goodbye from Pech was enough to distract Ryan from his current line of thought. He followed his partner back to the car, trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say. Because he needed to confront Shane. 

They had been driving for about fifteen minutes before Shane glanced at Ryan, then asked, “Hey, you okay there, buddy? You’ve got your thinkin’ expression on. You know, the one that makes it look like you're about to shit yourself.” Despite his words, he sounded genuinely concerned. 

Ryan scowled and said, “Shut up, Shane,” in a knee-jerk reflex. Then he immediately followed that with, “Are you a fucking warlock?”

_That’s one way to ask it._

Shane actually turned his head away from watching the road to stare at Ryan for a long moment, his eyebrows so twisted in confusion that he looked crazy. 

“Keep your eyes on the damn road,” Ryan snapped, nervously aware of the cars around them. 

“Sorry, I got distracted because you just asked the dumbest question I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. And I’ve heard some doozies.”

“Fuck off,” Ryan replied, annoyed that his hands were shaking. He hated confrontations with his significant others. Not that Shane _was_ his sig- _Not the time_. The headache wasn’t helping, either. “Explain to me how you were able to break the curse.”

“I _told_ you it was weakened.”

Ryan snorted. “Don’t try to feed me that bullshit. You had to have had an illegal spell on a charm or you made a power contract with a demon. Which is it?”

Shane made a frustrated noise. “Neither, damn it.” He signaled and parked, somehow finding a spot during the day in West Hollywood. And if that wasn’t the sign of something demonic, nothing was. The man turned towards Ryan, looking amused under his exasperation. “That’s why you kept looking at me when you had the glasses on.”

“Of course I was,” Ryan muttered. “I needed to know if it was obvious.”

“Obvious that I did something I haven’t done? Ryan, I swear to you, I haven’t entered into any contracts with any demons.”

“Shane, you’ve been acting weird ever since we found those kids, you’re doing spells that you shouldn’t know with power that you shouldn’t have, you know more illegal demons than Immigrations does, and you keep trying to blow me off.”

“I tried, but you wouldn’t let me.”

Ryan opened his mouth, then just let it hang for a moment. Because. Wow. He had _not_ thought Shane would go there. He took a deep breath through his nose, ignoring the little flare of want that curled up his spine. “You’re just proving my point!,” he nearly yelled, pointing in emphasis. “You’ve never been attracted to me in the past, I sincerely doubt you woke up one morning and thought ‘yeah, I like dick.’ _Something_ is going on with you. What is it?”

“Well, I like my own dick well enough, so…” Shane said with a little eyebrow wiggle, completely ignoring the majority of what Ryan had said. 

“Stop it, Shane,” Ryan snapped. “Stop trying to distract me.”

Dark eyes met his, searching for something, then Shane sighed and rested his head against the seat’s headrest. “Ryan….” He sighed again, a long exhale that seemed to come from his very soul. “Everything is changing. We're changing. You nearly _died_. Twice in two nights. I know you try to act like those things don’t bother you, but I know better. I know you. I-” he hesitated, then looked away. 

Ryan was-Well, he was actually incredibly touched. And a little incredulous. It drove back the tense atmosphere enough for him to blurt, “Wait. Is this-Are you having a midlife crisis?”

Shane groaned, exasperated. “Ryan, no.”

“Oh my God, are you going to get your ears pierced and buy a leather jacket? Or, oh, a motorcycle? Wait, no, it’s you. Are you going to buy a moped, one of those little scooter things? Because I would pay to see you on one of those.”

Grin just barely showing around the hand Shane had brought up to cover his face, the man muttered, “Shut up, you.”

Ryan hit him gently on the arm, more of a nudge. “So you’re having a midlife crisis.” Shane groaned again. “And you decided that jumping into gay sex was the answer?”

“For fuck’s sake, Bergara, I’ve never had someone question me this much just because I came onto them.”

“You’ve known how I’ve felt for over two years. If you were actually interested you would have made a move by now,” Ryan replied, knowing he sounded more petulant than teasing, but not really caring. Then he huffed, turning back towards being annoyed. “Damn it, stop distracting me. Are you worried you won’t be able to protect me or something? So you feel like you need more power? Because if that’s the case, fuck you.”

“I don’t need more power,” Shane said to the ceiling. Then he tilted his head so that he could wink at Ryan. “I’m already a ten, baby.”

“Shut up, Shane. Be serious.” Ryan’s voice went quiet and soft. “Please.”

Maybe it was the please, but the cheesy grin fell off Shane’s face. He straightened up and turned towards Ryan. “I’m the absolute last person to ever enter into a contract with a demon, Ryan. Trust me when I say that.”

Shane’s eyes were dark and warm, almost mesmerizing in their sincerity. Ryan wanted to fall into them, to take Shane’s words at face value and let the matter drop. But he wasn’t going to look the other way if his partner was breaking the law. “So it was just an illegal spell?”

Lips quirked into a fond smile, Shane gave a tiny shake of his head. “You’re relentless. Let’s go talk to this guy.”

“That’s not an answer, Shane.”

“Oh, isn’t it?”

Ryan glared as Shane got out of the car, tempted to stay out of spite. But then Shane would win, and he couldn’t allow that. He followed after the man, muttering swears to himself that his partner completely ignored as they rounded the corner of a building and into an alleyway.

They were standing at the side door of a club Ryan had never noticed before, when he thought of a question that Shane might actually answer. “So what was it that Pech called you? Coke can?”

Shane let out a quiet laugh, knocking on the door a second time. “Kulkulkan,” he said absently. 

Before Ryan could question him on what exactly that meant, the door opened and a blonde, blue-eyed Adonis in an impeccable three-piece suit stood in front of them. Ryan completely forgot whatever he was going to say. _Damn_. 

The blonde’s face was utterly impassive as he surveyed Shane. Ryan hadn’t even warranted a glance. “Jiutian Xuannu,” he said in a voice like velvet. “I had sensed that you were coming.”

“Collins,” Shane said curtly. There was a warning in his tone. 

Collins raised one finely shaped eyebrow, then finally looked at Ryan. He apparently didn’t like what he saw, because his lip curled in a faint sneer. “What do you want, _Madej_?” he asked, saying Shane’s name with a shade of contemptuous humor. 

This was definitely a demon. Only they could pull off such arrogant distaste with just the slightest facial expression. And probably an illegal one, if Shane was going out of his way to meet him like this, at a side-door that couldn’t be seen from the street. 

With his realization, Ryan took a step closer, feeling oddly protective of Shane. Despite what he had said in the car, Ryan still wasn’t sure that Shane wasn’t at least tempted to start a contract. 

“I need information.”

Collins inclined his head. “Ask.”

“Marcus and Steinbeck.”

Those gorgeous, arresting blue eyes went completely yellow. Collins’ features _wavered_ , as if two faces were trying to coexist in the same space. Large protruding fangs could be seen one moment, then his skin turned bright red the next. For one brief second, his nose became bulbous and exaggerated, his eyebrows intricate and curled. 

It was supremely disconcerting to see the classic features of a Chinese demon on such a stereotypically _blonde_ man, but it wasn’t the first time Ryan had witnessed something similar. Low level demons couldn’t always control how their powers manifested during extreme emotion and had a tendency to revert to the culture of the first host they had ever taken. 

Which meant that Collins was either scared or angry. Judging by the way his was refusing to meet Shane’s gaze, it was fear that was making him lose control. 

“Gone,” the demon said, his voice steady despite the way his face kept flickering. “Someone has found the ritual.”

“Shit.”

“Indeed.”

“Ritual?” Ryan asked, but they both ignored him. 

“Do you know who it could be?”

Collins tilted his head, his features finally smoothing out. The blue eyes returned, but Ryan didn’t find them very attractive anymore. “I have suspicions. Someone that was not very powerful. Steinbeck could barely hold her body. I believe she was the first. Easy prey.”

Shane nodded as if that made sense. “Fifth circle?”

“Perhaps.”

“Have there been others?” Shane asked after a pause.

“I have heard rumors. Nothing substantial.”

“Will you be staying?”

Collins looked away, finally showing a clear emotion. Determination. “I will not give up this chance. I am staying.”

Shane leaned forward and whispered something to him, something that Ryan couldn’t make out. If Shane kept excluding him like this, Ryan was going to go crazy. He had to bite his cheek to stop himself from saying anything. 

Whatever had been said, it must have been good, because Collins abruptly looked like Shane had given him the moon. He replied in a string of Chinese that sounded agonizingly thankful. 

Collins was rather hot when he allowed himself to show that he had feelings. 

_No, he’s a demon, stop it._

Shane just nodded, as if he had understood anything that the man had said. “Contact me if you learn anything new. Lay low.”

“Of course, sir.”

And there was that ‘sir’ again. The Madejs were supposed to be demon hunters, not doing whatever the hell it was that Shane was doing. 

Ryan was surprised when Collins looked directly at him, respect where there had only been dismissal before. “You are good for him. Thank you, Ryan Bergara.”

“Alright, how the hell do you know my -”

Shane grabbed Ryan by the elbow and marched him away before he could continue the question. After angrily jerking his arm back, Ryan turned back to see that Collins was gone and the door closed. 

“What the fuck was that?” he demanded, rounding on Shane. 

“‘That’ was my informant, Collins.”

Ryan made an angry gesture that probably meant nothing to Shane but made him feel a little better. “ _Shane_.”

He got a small smile, but Shane was obviously a million miles away, thinking about something. “That was a confirmation of my suspicions and not nearly enough information to do anything with.”

“And what the hell does that mean?”

Shane glanced at his watch then sighed. “It means I’m going to talk to one more person. I’ll drop you off at the station.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Ryan said, straightening his shoulders stubbornly. “I’m going with you. I’m still not really sure I can trust you around demons.”

“Ryan, you really don’t want to go with me.”

Turning and walking towards the car, Ryan threw over his shoulder, “You coming or what?”

He just _knew_ Shane was rolling his eyes. 

They had been driving for a few minutes, when Ryan thought to ask, “So who are we talking to this time? I feel like I’ve been getting a tour of the illegal demon underground.”

There was silence. 

“Shane, I can and will tell you about the starting lineups for the Lakers for the rest of the drive if you don’t answer.”

A short grimace of irritation, and then Shane said with clear reluctance, “Lucifer.”

Lucifer. 

“Oh,” Ryan said faintly. “That guy.”

_Lucifer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are the best. I'm just sayin'.
> 
> Thank you so so much for the comments and kudos! :D


	4. Chapter 4

There had been a plan when Ryan had gotten back into the car. Not an elaborate plan, no, but it had existed. He had had every intention of confronting Shane about his conversation with Collins and their weird, subtle references and asides. He felt like he was seeing an entirely different side of Shane. A secret one. And while he knew that everyone had their secrets and Shane was in no way obligated to tell him everything, the idea that Shane knew about this whole other world was disconcerting. He didn't like it. He didn't like the thought of Shane hiding so much from him.

Hell, Shane knew everything about him. Everything important, anyways. And Ryan felt that knowing so many illegal demons would have been _important information_. 

So, he needed to talk to Shane about what was going on. Interrogate him, despite the fact that the word seemed harsh and relegated to criminals. 

But. _Lucifer_.

It had been silent between them for a handful of minutes, so Ryan suddenly exclaiming, “Lucifer?!” sounded louder than it actually was.

Shane winced.

“What good is it going to do us to talk to that- that-” there had to be a good word. “Charlatan!” 

Ryan was actually a little proud of himself for that one. 

“Any demon that's arrogant enough to claim to be the _Devil_ is only going to be a pain in the ass,” he continued. 

Shane raised an eyebrow. “So I take it you don't believe he’s Old Scratch himself?

“Of course not,” Ryan said with a faint scoff. “He runs a bunch of entertainment business, why would the Devil want to do that?”

“Everyone gets bored.”

Ryan side-eyed him. “Seriously, what information can he give us?”

After rolling his shoulders back, an odd little movement that portrayed more anxiety than he probably wanted it to, Shane said, “Actually Satan or not, he _is_ one of the most powerful demons in North America. And you don't reach that level of power without knowing everything that's going on. He'll have some kind of information.”

That was a good point, but officers had tried to approach Lucifer before, trying to get him to inform on other demons or to testify in court. It had never worked. What made Shane think he'd have any luck? 

“So explain why you think you'll be able to just waltz into a meeting with this guy?”

Shane grimaced. “I’ve got information that he’ll want to know.”

“What information?” Ryan asked automatically, curious as to what Shane could know that this ‘Lucifer’ would want to know.

“It wouldn’t be very good info if I just gave it to everyone all willy nilly.”

“‘Willy nilly’-Nevermind.” Ryan shook his head. Sometimes Shane said the stupidest things. “You can tell me.”

Shane was annoyingly silent. 

Ryan spent the next fifteen minutes trying to get Shane to crack, but the man could be a stubborn ass sometimes. He was fully aware that he was using pestering Shane as an excuse to not think about who they were going to meet. But he knew that if he let himself think about it too hard, he would start to freak out. Regular demons were bad enough, but the one of the most powerful demons in the world? That had multiple hosts? Christ, even the thought was chilling. 

He had thrown himself so wholly into annoying Shane that he was surprised when they pulled up to a gated community, the kind where each house was a veritable mansion. He had only driven past the area before, never visited, since he didn’t know anyone that lived there. Hell, if he had been rich enough to associate with the people around here, he wouldn’t have needed to work a regular job. 

It was all Ryan could do not to stare, open-mouthed, as Shane learned out of the window, said something to the gate guard, and then they were waved through. Judging by the way Shane was refusing to look at him, his shock was obvious. 

“How the _fuck_ are you able to just go through-Wait, that’s not the important thing right now. We’re going to visit Lucifer at his _house_?!”

“Mhmm,” Shane replied, as if that wasn't the craziest idea he'd ever had. 

Ryan was on the verge of hyperventilating, so shocked that he wasn’t even scared. “Are you insane?!”

“Relax, he’s not going to kill us or whatever you’re thinking.”

For the first time in literally years, Ryan felt the urge to cross himself. He had pulled his medallion out from under his shirt without realizing it, clutching at it so hard that the edges were cutting into his palm. “Killing us isn’t what I’m worried about,” he practically hissed, gesturing wildly with his free hand. 

Shane glanced at him, then reached over and gently grasped his knee. “Ryan, relax. Seriously, you’ll be fine. He’s just a demon.”

“Just a demon?” Ryan repeated incredulously. “He has so much money that he could sue us so hard that our grandchildren will be in debt!”

That got him a quiet snicker. 

“Oh God, Shane, there’s no way I can be polite to him. I can’t afford to piss him off, I've still got student loans to pay off. What am I going to do?”

“Have you ever thought of not saying anything?”

Ryan managed to dredge up a smile. “Let’s be real here, that will never happen.”

Shane rolled his eyes and suddenly they were parked in front of a house that could have been a palace. It had a _private lane_. And a butler?

A man in a suit and white gloves approached them as they got out of the car, his face studiously impassive. 

“If you will follow me?”

Ryan shot a glance at Shane, but his partner was just following along behind the suited man as if he did such a thing every day. After taking a deep, gulping breath, Ryan forced his growing fear down and hurried after them. Like hell was he going to let Shane walk into this situation by himself. 

They were led through grand double doors and down a wood-floored hallway that was bigger than some apartments Ryan had lived in. Large paintings and marble busts lined the walls, each with a little placard underneath. It felt like being in a museum. People lived here?

Well. A demon lived here?

Eventually, after walking a ridiculously long time for being in a house, they made it to a large study, filled with dark wood furniture and leather bound books. At a second glance, they all looked like spell books and grimoires. If they were real, that was a vast amount of power and knowledge to have so casually on display. 

Ryan had to remind himself that he was a trained officer of the PIU and that he had faced far scarier things in his career than a demon with delusions of grandeur. 

Even if he’d rather face the rampaging skinwalker again. 

A woman of Middle Eastern descent was standing next to the picturesque windows of the study, a tiny figure that Ryan had initially overlooked, overwhelmed by the luxury of his surroundings. The man who had to be a butler whispered something to her, then bowed and left. She was fairly attractive, in tailored slacks and a loose white blouse, her dark hair in a long braid, but she wasn’t model-gorgeous. 

So he wasn’t prepared when Shane nodded a greeting, a surprisingly respectful gesture. “Lucifer.”

Ryan did an actual double-take. 

Wait, this normal looking woman was Lucifer’s host? He had expected someone drop-dead gorgeous. Someone that had been a former supermodel or actor. Maybe it was rude to think, but he would have never looked twice at this woman. 

Her lips curled into a mocking little smile. “Madej. I felt you coming.”

Okay, that was the second time a demon had said something like that. Did these leeches have some sort of Madej family radar? 

“There’s been at least three illegal demons killed in the past two months. Probably more,” Shane said without preamble. Then boldly asked, as if he had the right to demand things of the most powerful and influential demon in North America, “What do you know about it?”

The woman made no secret of looking over at Ryan. “Are you sure you want to ask me this in front of Bergara?”

 _Seriously, how the hell do they all know my name_?! And what did she mean by that question, anyways?

Ryan had to actually clench his teeth together to keep from saying anything. Indignation and confusion was better than fear, however, so he focused on those emotions rather than the low thrum of terror at the realization that this demon knew who he was. 

A short head shake from Shane and the woman, Lucifer, shrugged. “There’s hundreds of demons in this city, why should I care if a handful of weak idiots are killed?”

“Lucifer,” Shane said chidingly, the same way he did to Ryan when he was being particularly annoying. Which was _incredibly_ disconcerting. “The ritual was discovered.”

Lucifer paused, for the first time acting like a demon with how impossibly still she went. It was like watching a bad special effect when she spoke, only her mouth moving. “That’s not possible.”

“Collins believes it.”

A blink, and suddenly Lucifer walked away from the window and towards them, utterly human in her movements. It was eerie how smoothly she had gone from statue-like to normal. If Ryan hadn’t known better, he would have never marked her has a demon. Or even as non-human. 

“Your pet’s fear is distracting me.”

It took Ryan a second to realize that she was talking about him. Alright, that was it. He and Shane worked so well together because they knew how to let the other take the lead when the situation called for it. He had meant to follow Shane’s example on this, to be the quiet backup, since he only knew what he had learned in college about demons. But this was just too much. Ryan wasn’t going to just stand there and be insulted by some leech that had stolen a biblical name. 

“What the fuck do you mean by-”

“Ryan,” Lucifer said, catching his gaze. Her eyes were normal, a light brown that showed no signs of demonic possession. There was no black film, no goat pupils or red irises. Just plain, brown eyes. But they were _beautiful_. Ryan couldn’t look away, abruptly sure that if he stared hard enough, he would catch a glimpse of the cosmos. Of stars and nebulae and the space between them. 

“Damn it, Lucifer,” he heard Shane snap, but he didn’t care. There was nothing more important than those eyes and their infinite depths. 

“We need to have a discussion and he was only going to get in the way.”

“And it would have been so hard for me to come back later?”

“Where would the fun have been in that? Besides, I have businesses to run, I’m not at your beck and call, my dear.”

There was a hand on Ryan’s face, then someone physically turned his head. He tried to fight it at first, not wanting to break away from that mesmerizing hint of eternity, but the force behind the hand was implacable.

“Ryan, look at me,” someone- _Shane_?- whispered, a seductive, tantalizing brush of power in the words. Heat flared, burning his chest, distracting him from Lucifer’s gaze enough to meet Shane’s eyes, and-

Warmth. 

Where Lucifer’s eyes promised endless, cold, knowledge, Shane’s promised the dark between flames. The shadows of the sun. Power. The forbidden, incomprehensible weaknesses of the universe. And under it all, overwhelming emotion. 

Impersonal, unfeeling curiosity had made it impossible for Ryan to look away from Lucifer, but a whirlpool of tender passion and the promise he could see in Shane’s eyes made him step forward. His own personal feelings for Shane made him _want_ to fall into that endless ocean of dark fire.

Shane blinked, a slow sweep of lashes that muted the intense feeling of love that had swept over Ryan, but didn’t stop it entirely. 

“Hey there, buddy,” the man said gently, ignoring Lucifer’s noise of disgust. “I think you want to go back into the hallway and take a look at the art.”

That sounded like an _amazing_ idea. It didn’t matter that Ryan had no interest in art or that he didn’t want to leave Shane alone. The need to go see each and every painting and statue that lined that long hallway was far more important than some boring conversation. 

Ryan nodded slowly, torn for a second between those beautiful dark eyes and his urge to go see the art outside the room. “‘Kay,” he murmured. 

Shane smiled, a sad expression that Ryan didn’t understand, and kissed him on the forehead. “Go, I’ll be mocking the paintings with you as soon as I can.”

After one last lingering glance at Shane, Ryan turned and walked out of the room, just barely catching Lucifer saying something scathing about ‘love’. 

Meticulously, Ryan examined everything in the hallway, crossing back and forth to look at both sides. The statues were boring, but he studied them out of a sense of obligation anyways. The paintings were another matter entirely. Each one explored the theme of Hell and temptation, which was a little cliché for a demon calling herself ‘Lucifer.’ Some were rather tame, with crouched medieval-style demons and imps, holding pitchforks over comically painted humans. Others were beautiful in a macabre sense, featuring twisting, writhing bodies and pained, silent screams. 

By the time he got to the last painting in the line, Ryan was frowning in disgust and not a little confusion. He didn’t hate art or anything, but why had he thought it was so important for him to come look at this stuff? 

He was just about to turn around and go find Shane, when he finally realized exactly what he was looking at. 

Okay, _now_ he was a little impressed. 

It was a large painting, one of the biggest in the hallway. The scene was an amazingly realistic and detailed one of a World War One battle, with hundreds of soldiers across the bottom. Some were mere bodies, fallen in violent death. But every single man that was alive was turned towards the upper left of the painting, faces filled with fear and awe. Because in the corner was an angel. A bright, shining angel, vast wings covering the battlefield. It was impossible to make out much of her face, but the artist had managed to convey a terrible sadness in the angel’s expression, with little more than a few simple lines. It was heartbreaking.

The Angel of Mons. 

This painting was nearly as famous as da Vinci’s The Last Supper, synonymous with religious iconography around the world. It was a representation of the event that was responsible for bringing the supernatural world to light. While the Angel had saved thousands of lives that day by making her presence known, it had been the catalyst needed by dozens of non-human species to admit to their existence. 

Because if angels could exist, why not everything else?

Ryan gazed up at the painting, awe at seeing it in person making his mouth hang open a little. There was no way the richest, most powerful demon in America would have a _copy_ of this painting. It had to be the original. He reached up and pulled his St. Michael’s medallion out of his shirt with fingers that shook slightly, then flipped it to the other side. The angel engraved there was a replica of the one in front of him. 

He wasn’t particularly religious. He didn’t know what demons were and, like most people, assumed they came from some kind of other dimension. But _angels_. Well. Maybe he wasn’t sure exactly what he believed in, but he had faith that the story of the Angel of Mons was real. He believed in her far more than he did in St. Michael the Archangel. Which was why his family had gone out of their way to gift him with a medallion that featured both angels. It meant so much more to him because of that. 

“They say this was painted by a man who was blinded by the radiance of the angel he saw.”

Ryan startled and took a hasty step back, eyes widening when he realized it was Lucifer standing beside him. Alone. Where was Shane? He had to consciously relax his clenched fists and take a deep breath, pushing the fear and worry down. Not that he thought ‘Lucifer’ would need it, but he didn’t feel like feeding a leech with his irrational fear. And he doubted that she was stupid enough to have done something to Shane.

It helped that from this close, he could tell that he was taller than her. It was a worthless detail to note, since she could probably pick him up and throw him through the wall, but it made him feel better anyways. 

“So how did he paint this, then?” he managed to ask, one eyebrow raised. 

She gave him a mock-pious look. “By divine inspiration.” Then she snorted, an indelicate noise from such a primly dressed woman. “Or it was actually a well known and respected artist of the time who took hundreds of soldiers’ accounts. But that doesn’t sound nearly as magnificent.”

Ryan could only stare for a moment, taken aback. He had never met a demon that acted so human. She spoke normally, without the usual mocking undertones that jockeys used, and other than that one moment of utter stillness in her office, she expressed emotions accurately and fitting to the situation. She didn’t even give off a sense of power. Ryan was extremely sensitive to magic for a human and he should have been able to get something off of her, even without the second sight glasses. But she felt normal. 

It was eerie. He didn’t like the idea of a jockey being able to hide so well. Would he be able to see the demon in her aura if he got out his glasses? 

“Why do you have this? Aren’t angels like... the complete opposite of demons?”

Lucifer reached out and brushed her hand down the frame of the painting, a faint smile curling her lips. “The opposite sides of the same coin, perhaps. Enemies or not, I owe a lot to this angel. Without him, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

“Him?” Ryan asked without thinking. “I thought all the accounts agreed that it was a woman.”

She shrugged. “Her, him, it doesn’t really matter. You mortal beings place so much importance in sexual organs. You’re all so...weird.”

Ryan replied before he could think better about sassing Lucifer. “We’re weird?! You don’t even have bodies!”

Lucifer pressed her lips together, as if she was trying to hide a smile. “Exactly. You should try it sometime, you might find it enlightening.”

He stared. “I’m not sure if you’re serious or if that was a very vague threat.”

She actually laughed, an oddly normal, pretty sound. Her laughter trailed off, then she seemed to study him. Ryan instinctually looked away, unsure why he unwilling to look her in the eye. 

“Where is Shane?” he finally asked, growing uncomfortable with the silence. 

“On his way,” she answered readily enough. “Do you want to know something interesting about demons, Bergara?”

Again with knowing his name. He nodded, curious despite himself. 

Lucifer gestured towards her eyes, leaning forward and whispering just as Shane appeared and started walking down the hallway towards them. “Demons already have what you call the sight. What do you think happens when they try to put on your adorable glasses?”

Ryan furrowed his brow, not understanding what she was getting at. “What-”

“Lucifer,” Shane said, a warning under his pleasant tone. “Living up to your name with the temptations, are we?”

“Hardly,” she replied, rolling her eyes. God, it was weird to see a demon act like a bratty teenager. “I’m in the wrong body for that. If you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than entertain two cops.”

Watching her sweep away, Ryan offhandedly remarked, “See, this is why they should let us be detectives. I can’t really correct her when she’s technically right.” He glanced up at Shane to see that the man was staring at the painting behind him, an expression of pure annoyance on his face. “Hey man, what’s your problem with the painting?”

Shane glanced at him, then rolled his eyes, just like Lucifer had. That was disturbing. “Don’t tell me you believe in that angel nonsense.”

Ryan sighed, shaking his head. “Let me guess, the theories behind the Angel of Mons are all stupid and it was a mass hallucination? Or are you going to tell me it was all propaganda?”

Shane spread his hands in a silent gesture that aptly conveyed ‘obviously.’

“Dick,” Ryan said with a long, exasperated groan. “Can we leave now? Did you even get any information out of Lucifer?”

Wait, why had he left the two of them alone? 

He was distracted from his thought by Shane turning and walking towards the front doors, so he hurried after him. 

“Lucifer knew of three other illegal demons that have been killed and two that have disappeared,” Shane said, not even blinking when the butler from earlier stepped out of nowhere to open the doors. For fuck’s sake, Ryan was going to have a heart attack if people didn’t stop being so damn silent. 

“That many victims is serial killer territory,” Ryan said, frowning as he eyed the butler. The man stared back, deadpan. “And no one connected the deaths? A crushed spine isn’t very common.”

“It looks like our demon suspect has been doing some traveling. Most of them are outside of LA. And illegal demons hide as well as they can, so the investigators might not even realize the victim was possessed at the time.”

“Ugh, I hate dealing with other cities. Did Lucifer tell you anything else?”

Shane paused in the middle of opening the car door, his expression pensive. “There’s a ritual.”

“Isn’t there always? I remember last year.”

A faint smile that quickly fell, then Shane continued in a far too serious tone, “This ritual allows a demon to absorb the power of another one.”

Ryan started to reply, but he stopped when he saw Shane take a deep, almost nervous breath. For some reason, the man wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“At the moment, there are two demons on this continent that could completely destroy the world if they wanted to.”

“Dude, now you’re the one that sounds like a conspiracy theorist.”

Shane drug his gaze up, fixing Ryan with an intense stare. “I’m serious. And if this demon continues what he’s doing, in a couple of months, that number will be three. And I doubt he’s doing it for the good of mankind.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, letting that realization sink in. “No pressure, then.”

They silently got into the car and started the long drive back, when Ryan thought of something. “Wait, who is the second one?”

“Hmm?”

“You said there’s two demons powerful enough to destroy the world. Which I still think is bullshit. But if Lucifer is one, who is the other one?”

Shane smiled, a smug little expression that verged on a smirk. “Come on, Bergara. Where would the fun be in my telling you?”

“ _Shane_.”

“Yup.”

“I hate you.”

\-------------------------------------------

It was ten at night and Ryan did not want to sleep. 

That was a lie. He _wanted_ to sleep. But every time he thought about getting into his bed, the memory of intense terror swept over him. Even just the memory was enough to make his palms sweat and his heart pound, so he had spent an hour coming up with more and more ridiculous reasons to keep himself awake. 

He just didn’t think he could sleep in that bed. And sleeping on the couch felt like giving up, like the demon that had cast the curse had won somehow. 

What he needed, he decided, was a distraction. And while alcohol wasn’t a good long term solution, Ryan was more than willing to resort to it for tonight. But he wasn’t at the point where he could just pound a couple of shots on his own and not feel like he had a problem. 

Who did he know that would be awake and willing to go out so late on a work night? Quite a few people, actually. But most of them were friends he had known his whole life and they were all human. Ryan needed someone he could talk to who would understand what he was talking about and wouldn’t express their concern by telling him to quit the PIU. His human friends and family tried to be understanding, but he got tired of hearing them tell him to transfer to a regular department. 

There were a few coworkers that he was friends with, sure, but other than Shane, he wasn’t close enough with any of them to randomly invite them to late night drinking. And he couldn’t exactly discuss Shane with Shane. Which left one person, who was both in the supernatural community and young enough to be free for the night. 

A quick text conversation later, Ryan was walking out of his apartment in nice jeans and a shirt, because why not? It’s not like he had many other opportunities to go out. 

Wendy Jager was an intelligent, funny young woman who occasionally met up with Ryan to chat and get drunk. Theirs was a relationship based mostly off of bitching about friends, work, and men. 

She was also a wendigo. 

They had become acquainted during an unfortunate series of misunderstandings that had resulted in one broken-armed thief, an impressive set of bite scars on Ryan’s hand, and one very embarrassed Wendy. They had become friends because Ryan thought she was hilarious and she had been impressed that a human she had accidentally attacked wasn’t pressing charges. 

Wendy was easy to spot in the bar, her height and ribbon-wrapped antlers making her stand out from the rest of the crowd. It helped that there was a constant space around her, since the humans in the building were doing their best to stay away. More than one person gave Ryan a surprised look when he took the seat next to her. 

“How many this time?” he asked in greeting.

She didn’t startle, since he was sure she had been able to smell him. While wendigos were best known for eating human flesh, they were almost as well known for their sense of smell. He didn’t envy them for either thing.

“Only one, but I’m sure that’ll change now that you’re here,” she replied cheerfully, despite the topic. 

Wendy was, truthfully, beautiful. Deep red hair that fell in waves past her shoulders, accented by the white ribbons and feathers she decorated her antlers with, bright yellow eyes and red face paint that marked her as friendly to humans. She was a striking sight, and those men that weren’t scared away by her black claws were lured in by the pretty face and the danger she represented. Ryan rather thought it was like trying to ask a tiger on a date, but then he had once hit on a vampire, so he probably didn’t have room to talk. 

“So, Ryan,” she asked once he had ordered a beer. “What’s wrong?”

He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is it that obvious?”

“Uh, you texted me out of nowhere and practically begged me to go drinking tonight. Something happened.”

“Hey, maybe I wanted to hang out with you,” Ryan tried, feeling a little guilty. 

“You’ve been scared and angry in the past twenty-four hours. Moreso than usual.”

He stared, a little surprised that she had figured that out. “How do you know? Did you hear something?”

Wendy’s eyes nearly twinkled as she tapped her nose. “I guess you could say I’ve got the _nose_ for it.”

Ryan groaned, fighting back a smile. Wendy’s puns were the _worst_. In that they were actually terrible. “Are you sure you don’t want to join the academy? You’d be a huge asset.”

“I’m not going to be a bloodhound, Ryan. You’ve got plenty of werewolves for that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, if I tried to become a cop, my family would disown me entirely. They’re still pissed I left Canada. It’s marketing or nothing for me.”

“I’m sure they’d come around.”

She shrugged noncommittally, then fixed him with a piercing stare. “We’re not here to talk about my family. Spill it, hot stuff.”

He sighed. He wanted to tell her everything, from the cannibal demon to the curse to the way Shane had been acting. But most of that pertained to open cases and he wasn’t going to just openly talk about Shane possibly doing illegal things. 

“Something did happen,” he said after taking a bracing swallow of beer. Maybe he should have have gone with something harder. Like straight bourbon. “Something bad. I nearly got murked.” He tried to smile, to make it a joke, but she could probably smell how talking about it was making the fear return. 

“Oh shit,” she breathed, reaching over to cover his hand with her own. Her black claws tapped gently against his skin. It was weird, he realized, that he didn’t mind when she did that but couldn’t stand the sight of a demon’s claws. “I’m so sorry. I’m glad you’re okay. No wonder you wanted to get drunk. Can you tell me about it?”

Ryan shook his head. “That’s not it. Well,” he frowned, correcting himself. “That’s part of it. But, uh…” he took a deep breath and blurted, “Shane kissed me.”

Wendy’s hand over his tightened in surprise, then she actually squeaked. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, grinning widely. Her teeth were rather sharp. “Fucking _finally_.”

He laughed despite himself, amused at how excited she was for him. He sometimes forgot that she was years younger than him. “No, it wasn’t- I mean, I don’t think he meant it?”

Her smile fell, confusion making her wrinkle her eyebrows together. “What, like he was drunk?”

“No, though he was acting like he was high,” Ryan said, remembering the manic way Shane had acted that morning. “I think it was more a reaction to me nearly dying? And yeah, it was good, like, weirdly good, but I don’t want him coming onto me if he doesn’t actually, you know, _want_ me.”

 _Wow, that was coherent_.

Luckily, Wendy was well versed in translating his rambling. She looked down at the surface of the bar, obviously thinking about something, then sat back on her stool. “I don’t like telling people someone else’s emotions, but...I’ve never actually smelled any lust from him. To be fair, I’ve only met him a few times and they weren’t really situations that would call for lust, but you would be surprised how often it-” she snickered to herself, “ _comes up_.”

“Damn it, Wendy,” Ryan said, smiling even though he really didn’t want to. He wasn’t surprised to hear that information, so it didn’t make him feel particularly upset. It was just confirmation of something he already knew. “That’s what I mean, though. I’ve come close to dying before and he didn’t react that way. I get that he cares for me. Bros for life, that kind of thing. I just wish I knew why he keeps acting so weird lately.” 

He took a sip of beer, then continued, settling comfortably in for a night of complaining. “We spent all day talking to demons.” He nodded at Wendy’s grimace of distaste. “Right? And he kept talking to them like they were friends. _And_ they kept making these fucking references or something to things I have no clue about. What the hell is up with that? I understand that he’s a Madej, he’s going to know more about demons than me. But that being said, you’d think he’d share the information with his partner.”

Wendy nodded, her expression thoughtful. A little pensive. 

“And-” Ah fuck, if anyone could keep a secret, surely it would be a wendigo? “He’s casting spells he shouldn’t be able to.”

“Like what?” she asked, looking up sharply. 

“He broke a demon curse,” Ryan admitted, being careful not to mention that it had been one on him. He really didn’t want to deal with misplaced sympathy right now. “He’s human, he shouldn’t have been able to do that by himself. It's just, these last two days, Shane has been so _odd_. He called a fridge an icebox. Does he think it's the 30s?”

Wendy bit her lip, which had to be a bad habit with such sharp teeth, and took a deep breath. She kept darting her eyes around. “You know how it’s like, incredibly rude to out a gay person?”

Ryan blinked in surprise at the sudden topic change. “Uh, I’m aware.”

“So, it's the same for us non-humans. If someone is hiding as human, with a glamour or whatever, you don’t out them. It’s just not done.” She glanced around, then leaned forward and whispered, “For example, there’s at least two selkies and a fae here, all under glamours. If I pointed them out, I’d be shunned by quite a few people.”

“Alright,” Ryan responded slowly. He knew a little bit about that, since his neighbor was actually a wendigo that had cut his antlers off to blend in with humans, but he had always been careful to treat the man as if he was completely human. “That makes sense.”

Wendy tapped her claws against her glass, a nervous little movement, then quickly said in a hissed whisper, “Shane doesn’t smell right.”

He blinked. “Uh…”

“Not all the time, but sometimes he smells like,” she wrinkled her nose as she tried to search for the word. “Smoke.”

Ryan’s heart thumped. A warlock would smell- “Like sulfur?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “No, he doesn’t smell like a warlock.”

 _Oh thank fucking God_.

“It’s more dry. It’s so hard to describe to you humans with your terrible sense of smell,” she complained, mostly teasing. “Almost like fire and snake skin.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”

“It’s okay,” Wendy said with a shrug. “I’m just not sure he’s human, is what I'm trying to say. Maybe he’s fae or something and that’s why he could break a demon curse.”

Ryan laughed quietly, shaking his head. “We had to take DNA tests when we joined the PIU. He’s 99% European human. Genetically, he’s pretty much the most boring white guy imaginable. Hell, even I had more interesting results, since my great-great-grandmother was a kitsune.”

Wendy frowned, looking a little confused. “It’s not impossible to doctor the results of those tests.”

After narrowing his eyes, Ryan reluctantly asked, “Was that a pun?”

She thought back to what she had said. “No, I can do better than that.” A little sigh, then she shrugged. “Maybe he just has a weird aftershave.”

“That’s probably it,” Ryan agreed. Some tense part of himself that he had been ignoring relaxed. 

Sure, he was willing to believe in some pretty outlandish theories. But Shane being something non-human? That was just laughable. After four years of practically living in each other’s pockets, he would know if Shane wasn’t human. 

“Come on,” Wendy said suddenly. “We came here to get drunk and gossip. Let me tell you about my single, gay cousin.”

“Oh God no,” he replied, laughing loudly. “I’m not being set up with a cousin.”

“Pfft, it’s fine, he doesn’t eat human flesh.”

“Yeah, that’ll make me feel better when he bites my lip off accidentally,” Ryan said with a roll of his eyes, even as he waved the bartender down for another beer. 

“That happens less often than you’d think.”

\----------------------------

 

Maybe Ryan was a little late in getting to work the next morning. 

And maybe he was a _little_ hungover. 

That wasn’t anyone’s business except for him and the coffeemaker. 

He grumbled as the thing gurgled away, blearily contemplating machine homicide. Could the damn thing be any slower? 

The night had been long and ended mostly in a blur. Wendy had driven him and his car home for him, since she could handle her alcohol a lot better. That was the only reason he had been a half hour late to work instead an hour. He probably owed her a dinner or something. 

On the bright side, he had fallen into his bed and slept without a problem. So the plan to get drunk had worked. He needed to be careful he didn’t turn to alcohol every night, though. That was a slippery slope he didn’t want to fall down. 

He drew in a deep breath through his nose, trying to ignore his faint nausea, then glanced up out of boredom. From where he was standing, he could see through the break room door into the bullpen, where all the officers of the PIU had their desks. He automatically looked towards Shane’s desk, smiling to himself when he watched the man make a face at his computer. 

Ryan was about to look away just as Shane reached out towards his own mug. And knocked it off the desk. He was too far away to hear it break, but he did see Shane frown in annoyance, then bend down to pick up the shattered pieces the mug had become. 

That was a little funny. Ryan was just starting to grab a second mug, since he figured he could be nice and bring the guy another cup of coffee, when Shane glanced around. 

Then muttered something. And waved his hand. 

Where there had been multiple shards of ceramic, there was now one whole mug. 

Ryan stared. 

A week ago, he wouldn’t have even noticed. 

A day ago, he would have rationalized it. He had seen two people do something similar before. But one had been Captain Williams. Who was a very powerful fae. And the other had been a crime scene tech that was also the only warlock that Ryan could stand. 

No normal human had ever tested high enough on the Hickam tests to have the kind of magic needed to pull off what he had just witnessed. What Shane had done should have been impossible.

Maybe it was because of what Wendy had said last night or maybe it was because of how weird Shane had been acting. But Ryan couldn’t bring himself to dismiss what he had just seen. 

He _knew_ Shane was human. 

But warlocks still got a human result in DNA tests. 

_As do demons_.

Ryan wasn’t sure where that thought had come from. But it kept repeating over and over in his mind, drowning out all other considerations. DNA only proved that the body was human. It didn’t test for leeches.

The idea was stupid. It was insane, just another crazy theory 

But how often were his crazy feelings right?

He needed to know. He needed to find out if he was just being paranoid. 

Demon? Or warlock?

There wasn’t an easy way to test the theory, since apparently powerful demons could hide in auras and _fuck_ , if Shane was a demon then of course he would know about being able to hide and suddenly everything began making a kind of terrible sense. 

_No, no, it’s just a theory, you need proof, don’t freak out._

His own fear gave him an idea. 

Warlocks couldn’t sense emotion. 

Demons could. 

Ryan stepped out of the break room. And did something he never thought he would do. 

He focused on his fear. Let himself dwell on the worst possibilities, until he could feel it make his fingers tremble and his breath come in quiet, harsh gasps. And he relaxed all the mental barriers that he had kept up since college, letting himself just _feel_ his fear. 

_Please don’t look up, please don’t notice this, please, please_ -

Two people looked up. Ruggirello, whose nostrils flared at the sudden scent of terror. 

And Shane. 

The fear spiked. Shane stood up from his chair, his expression one of confusion and concern. It took all of Ryan’s willpower to hold still, to not fall into a defensive crouch as Shane approached him. 

“Ryan, what’s wrong?” Shane asked as soon as he was close enough to whisper the words. There was a balanced intensity to him, as if he was expecting to be attacked. “You look terrified, what happened? Is it another curse?”

Shaking his was head was all Ryan managed to do.

“Is it your family? Are they alright?”

All Ryan could do was stare wide-eyed, torn between the look of honest worry on Shane’s face and the sudden realization that Shane _knew his family_. 

_No, no, this doesn’t mean anything, it was a coincidence, he just happened to look up at the wrong time, he’s not a demon, he’s not._

Ryan tried to answer, tried to come up with some kind of explanation. He looked up at Shane’s eyes. Froze. Panicked.

“I have to go. I feel sick,” he blurted in a high-pitched voice, turning and starting to hurry away. 

Warm fingers grabbed his wrist. Too warm. “Ryan, what’s wro-”

Ryan jerked his arm away and nearly sprinted out the door. 

He refused to look back. 

To see those eyes again. 

Those familiar, soft brown eyes. 

And their inexplicable slitted pupils.

 

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again and again and again for the interest and lovely comments! It means so much to me :D
> 
> If you want to come yell at me about anything, I'm at [Mephsation](http://mephsation.tumblr.com) on the Tumblr! It's this thing all the kids are doing nowadays, right?


	5. Chapter 5

Ryan wasn't sure how he got to his apartment. He was focused so hard on not panicking that when he finally realized where he was, he was sitting on his couch, staring blankly at the dark screen of his TV. 

_Shane is a demon._

The very thought was incomprehensible. No matter how many times he thought it, it didn’t make sense. 

Except that it _did_ make sense. 

“Fuck,” he said to himself, burying his face in his hands, trying to just focus on his breathing. But no matter how hard he tried to calm down, his racing thoughts kept tumbling through his head. 

For a solid chunk of time, Ryan tried to convince himself that the lighting had been weird or he had just been seeing things. He had been stressed and hungover, maybe his brain had been playing tricks on him. Maybe he had been so scared that he had conjured up an image that wasn’t real. 

But he had never done that before. As someone that investigated many different crimes, he had to trust his observational skills. And Ryan knew what he had seen. Thin black pupils in Shane’s eyes, like something a cat or snake would have. Not the most common sign of a possession, but a classic one. 

It was tempting to think that it was recent. Shane _had_ been acting weird for the past couple of days, and from one perspective, that could have meant a radical personality change. Personality changes were one of the first indications of a demonic possession. Something could have happened in the past two days, something that would have knocked Shane out and let a demon in.

Except that, even as Ryan thought about the possibility, he could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket. He knew without looking that it was Shane calling him. Wearily, feeling so much older than his actual age, he leaned back into a slump and pulled his phone out. 

He stared, his thumb hovering over the phone icon, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer or to dismiss the call. Eventually, it went to voicemail and he let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. 

It wasn’t a surprise to see that he had two more missed calls and an entire slew of text messages. Morbid curiosity made him tap the message icon.

_Just what would a demon text about?_

The snideness of the thought was jarring. 

Ryan ignored the tiny whisper of anger at the back of his mind and read through the texts. 

_Are you okay?_  
_You didn’t look sick, is everything alright?_  
_Ryan_  
_I’m calling your mom_  
_She says everyone is fine._  
_Let me know you’re okay_  


__

Ryan winced as, on cue, his mom’s phone number popped up on the screen. 

After reassuring her that he was just sick and nothing else was wrong, Ryan groaned and threw his phone into the other corner of the couch. Damn it, he hated lying to her. But he couldn’t exactly tell her that he had found out his partner and best friend was a demon and he had panicked and ran home. 

Shit, what a brave Sergeant of the PIU he had turned out to be. Couldn’t even handle facing a demon. 

A demon that he was in love with. Because one thing those texts and calls had proved was that the being calling itself Shane was the same one he had known for four years. No fresh jockey would have bothered to show that level of care for his well-being. 

Which meant that a _demon_ cared enough about Ryan to text him. Cared enough about Ryan’s whole family to make sure that they were okay. That was...That was weird. 

A surge of abrupt, formless anger made Ryan pick up the remote on the table in front of him and fling it at the wall with a hoarse shout. The sound of the remote hitting the wall with a sharp crack and clatter as batteries and plastic fell to the floor was satisfying, but did nothing to sate his sudden, mad frustration. 

How the _fuck_ had he missed this? How the hell had he become so close to someone and not realized the person was actually a goddamn _leech_?

The thought, the slur that usually felt like nothing more than a satisfying swear, sent an unfamiliar feeling of shame through Ryan. He pushed the emotion away, unwilling to confront it while he was still angry and reeling. 

How dare Shane do this to him? How dare he lie for years about what he was? Ryan knew he was being irrational. He knew that Shane had never had a choice. But in this moment, he wanted to bask in his righteous anger. He wanted to hold onto that clean, passionate rage. It didn’t matter that he was being a dick or that he would regret this feeling later. 

Shane had _lied_. 

From day one, Shane had presented himself as something he wasn’t. God, Shane knew how much Ryan hated and feared demons. Had he been laughing at Ryan this entire time, cruelly enjoying making a human fall in love with him?

_Fuck_ , had Shane been feeding off of him? 

Ryan briefly, for one second, thought about exposing Shane. But even in the midst of his anger, he stopped that train of thought as soon as it formed. 

No matter how mad he got, he couldn’t stand the thought of what would happen to Shane. Of what happened to all illegal demons. He had witnessed more than a few exorcisms and banishments. There was no way he could stand the idea of Shane going through that. 

_If that’s even his name._

Ryan’s lip curled in instinctual disgust, but the expression quickly fell. Being angry was exhausting. And his naturally curious mind kept returning to the puzzle in front of him. Just how had Shane hidden so well? 

He had always thought the man was odd, but never once had Ryan thought he was odd in a non-human way. Shane had always had a weird manner of speaking, occasionally throwing out archaic turns of phrase like they were still used daily. But Ryan had never seen that as a sign of an immortal creature. It had just been Shane, being his usual odd self. Hell, he would use 40’s gangster slang in one sentence, then modern slang that was so new Ryan didn’t even know it in the next. 

Demons never bothered to learn modern vernacular. That was something everyone knew. Ancient vampires and fae didn’t bother to learn more than the necessity, either. 

So what made Shane so different? Could he be a young demon? Was that even a thing? Ryan had never stopped to think about how demons came into being. They had always just been an ageless terror to him, taking bodies and spreading havoc. 

Fuck, he really didn’t want to think about Shane’s body. The one that wasn’t his. The one that belonged to the real Shane Madej. 

Ryan didn’t have to look up the news story of the Madejs’ accident. He already knew it by heart, his empathy for Shane’s survivor’s guilt making him read the facts over and over again until he had them memorized. 

But Shane wouldn’t have survivor’s guilt, would he? Because the real Shane must have been in a coma. Making it possible for Sha-the demon to possess him. How the hell had he gotten passed the tests? Anyone that was brought to a hospital after being in an accident that resulted in unconciousness had to go through a battery of tests to prove that they weren’t demon-ridden. And hospitals were so highly warded and protected that it was easier for demons to get into cathedrals than try to steal a body. 

Except. Ryan was thinking about the low-powered demons that could barely hold a body, wasn’t he? Those precautions were all put in place to stop the bottom-feeding, scavenger demons that weren’t powerful enough to entice people into contracts. 

No one had ever stopped to think about what would happen if a truly powerful demon decided to take a body. Ryan had seen Shane waltz in and out of hospitals without a problem. Which meant that he was stronger than the wards. 

Fuck. That was. That was not a thought Ryan wanted to have. 

Wait. 

What if Shane had been the one to orchestrate the Madejs’ deaths?

Ryan abruptly stood up and started to pace, needing to do something with the sudden flood of nervous energy. Surely Shane wasn't responsible for that? It had to have been nothing more than an unfortunate car accident, right?

He drug his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands in a gesture of scared frustration. God, he just didn't _know_. He didn't know anything for sure anymore. The man he knew would never purposefully hurt a single person like that, let alone an entire family. 

But then, the man he knew was likely a myth. A carefully constructed character that would pass scrutiny. 

That didn’t sound right, though. There were too many moments that Ryan could remember where Shane had shown genuine care for another. Not just to him, but mutual friends and acquaintances. 

Could he trust those memories? Everything had been tainted by the lie. 

_Shane saved my life_.

A rush of breath, more of a gasp than a sigh, left Ryan. Just how many times had Shane saved his life in the last four years? A demon that was doing nothing more than masquerading as human to keep its body would never have bothered to save Ryan. 

He could remember, with painful clarity, the way Shane had cornered him in his own kitchen, insisting that only one demon had cursed him. The man had been nearly begging Ryan to believe him, to believe that, despite Fulmer reporting energy from two demons, only one had attacked him. 

Well fuck, Shane had pretty much admitted what he was right there, hadn’t he? 

And Ryan had been too stupid to pick up on it.

That did explain why Shane had been able to break the curse. God, no wonder he had been so amused by Ryan accusing him of trying to become a warlock. 

The bout of nervous energy that had been driving him in circles around his living room trickled out of him, and he slumped back down onto the couch, slouching against the back. He threw his arm over his eyes, trying to find some kind of comfort in the darkness behind his eyelids. But it only made him think of the living, breathing, terrifying darkness the curse had conjured in his mind. 

Shane could probably cast a curse just like that. 

Ryan growled in exhausted frustration and flung his arm against the back of the couch in a dramatic move that was better suited to a hormonal teenager. But no one was there to see him, so fuck it. He was tired of how his thoughts kept bouncing from one subject to another, and how his emotions were all over the fucking place. 

His phone buzzed, its vibrations muffled by the cushions it was wedged between. Ryan was tempted to just leave it, but he needed to answer if it was his mother again. The last thing he wanted was family showing up at his apartment. 

Listlessly, as if lifting a phone was a great burden, he grabbed his phone and brought it to his face. The notification was for a text from Shane and that same curiosity from earlier made him look at it. 

_Told HR you were sick, you owe me_

Wow, Ryan hadn’t even thought of that. He had left in such a panicked hurry that he had completely forgotten about his own damn job. The one he loved and spent most of his time on. Christ. Shane had really thrown him for a loop. 

It was incredibly weird to think of a demon covering for him at work. Going through the mundane procedure of emailing HR for him and giving them some plausible excuse for why he was gone. 

Knowing that complete silence would eventually bring Shane to his apartment, Ryan replied with a simple ‘thank you’. His fingers shook as he tapped the letters, but he managed to get the words down. He ignored the urge to ask why Shane had been lying to him this whole time. 

That wasn’t exactly a conversation to be had over text. 

Ryan stared unseeing at his phone for a long time. He wasn’t sure how much time passed. Probably hours. But he couldn’t stop thinking, couldn’t stop remembering various moments with Shane. Both the good and bad. 

Of course, the good far outweighed the bad. 

Stakeouts together. Meals together. Taking vacations together. The first time Shane had met his family. Sitting in comfortable silence next to each other as they studied for their final test at the academy. 

Theirs had been a whirlwind friendship, meeting in the last month before graduation, then falling in together with such a natural chemistry that there hadn’t been a question that they would apply for the same department. 

Ryan had always counted them lucky for being able to become partners after they had gone through their probationary training. Now he realized that Shane may have found a way to influence the outcome of their partner assignments. 

That thought was as terrifying as it was heartwarming. 

There were a few far less pleasant memories. Fights over nothing and periods where they both stubbornly refused to talk to the other. But there had never been anything that had pointed to Shane being a _demon_. 

Unbidden, a bittersweet memory rose to the front of his mind. 

It had been after a successful arrest of a homicide suspect. One of the first for him and Shane. He had had a couple of beers in celebration. Not enough alcohol that he could blame his actions on it, but enough for Ryan to feel courageous. They had been at Shane’s place, a shitty studio apartment that barely had electricity and running water. Shane had been leaning against the peeling wall, laughing at something Ryan had said. He had looked like the most perfect thing Ryan had ever seen. 

So he had kissed Shane. 

It hadn’t been anything more than a simple press of his lips to Shane’s. But that had been enough for him to know that it had been a mistake. The way Shane had gone still, then pulled his head away had said more than enough. 

It could have been worse, he supposed. Shane could have punched him, or worse, been so awkward around Ryan that it ruined their friendship. But Shane had just smiled at him sadly, then shook his head. 

Ryan would never forget Shane’s next words. 

“I’m so sorry, Ryan. You’re my best friend. But I-” He had looked away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Oddly, they had actually grown closer as friends after that. Ryan no longer felt like he had to hide his feelings, even if they weren’t reciprocated in the way he had hoped for, and Shane had acted freer around him. More eccentric. As if he knew that Ryan wasn’t going to go away just because he was a little weird. 

Maybe that should have been a clue. 

For two years, Ryan had assumed that Shane was straight. Hell, he had seen the man go on a couple of dates with women. Now he had to wonder if those dates had been more camouflage to seem human. 

And if Shane had turned him down because he was a demon. Not because he was straight. 

Ryan was abruptly jarred back to the present with a sudden thought. 

Did demons even have a sexuality? 

He could feel his own eyebrows scrunch together at his confusion. Demons were non-corporeal beings that needed a body to interact directly with the physical world. Would they even have sexual urges? They had to, right? There were too many incubi and succubi in the world to argue otherwise. 

For the first time since he had made his realization about what Shane was, Ryan felt a strong urge to call Shane. To ask him. And holy shit, he could ask Shane so many questions. Not only about himself and why he had lied for years, but questions about demons in general and magic and where the hell they came from. 

Ryan’s own natural fascination with the supernatural almost made him actually pick up his phone. But common sense stopped him. 

Shane didn’t know that he knew. 

And randomly calling him to ask invasive questions about being a demon would just scare him away. 

Not to mention that Ryan was still, frankly, mad. And not a little scared. He couldn’t face Shane right now. Not when he was still a jumbled mess of emotions. 

He glanced at the time, surprised to see that it was already the afternoon. No wonder his stomach was growling and his bladder felt like it was going to explode.

It was in the bathroom, while he was taking off the work clothes he was still in, that he caught a glimpse of his necklace in the mirror.  
The metal gleamed in the bright bathroom lights, expensive, high-quality silver that had probably cost his family way too much money. He treasured the thing, not only for its protection enchantments, but for the amount of love and care that it represented. 

The clear image of Shane, sitting next to him in a car, lit only by a street light, came to him. Ryan could remember how Shane had gripped his medallion and muttered unfamiliar words, casting a spell that Ryan didn’t recognize. Shane had said that it was for protection but could that have been a lie?

Ryan stared at the necklace through the mirror. With his shirt off, there was nothing to disguise how his skin was red and angry underneath the metal. Like it had burnt him more than once. He gingerly brushed his finger down the chain, thinking about how odd it had felt lately. 

In the house with the kidnapped children, it had burnt him when their cannibal demon had thrown a curse straight at him. It had gone noticeably warm the times the lights had flickered, both at the station and at Pech’s pawn shop. 

Like it was warning him. Warning him of what? Demonic energy? 

Ryan braced his free hand against the edge of his sink, wearily feeling like he needed the support. Just what had Shane done to his necklace? He wanted to trust that Shane wouldn’t do anything to it, but he just couldn’t be sure. 

It was harder than it should have been to take the necklace off. His neck felt oddly naked and vulnerable without the weight of the chain, since he couldn’t actually remember the last time he had taken it off. 

Placing it in the middle of his coffee table was even harder. 

His preparations took quite a few minutes, and he used that time to force his mind into a semblance of calm. Putting on a clean new shirt, arranging and lighting candles around the medallion, then drawing a circle around it and the candles in erasable marker were all movements that he did automatically, thinking more about his inner focus than what he was physically doing. 

When Ryan was as mentally balanced as he was going to get, he sat on his knees in front of the table, took a deep breath, and put on his second sight glasses. 

Every teacher in magic theory and casting he had ever had would have been yelling at him. What Ryan was about to try was dangerous. There were many reasons why glasses that could see into the metaphysical realm had been invented. And the most important was the fact that a person opening their sight was vulnerable. Not just to outside influences, but from what they could end up seeing. 

The images that were seen with the second sight never really went away. For good or ill, they would always be remembered. The glasses were a basic form of protection, putting a layer between the user and the metaphysical.

But Ryan had already looked at the medallion with the glasses and seen nothing beyond the usual enchantments. And he needed to be certain. He needed to _know_ that he could trust whatever Shane had done to it. 

So he was going to use both the glasses and the most powerful second sight spell he knew. At the same time. And he hoped to God he wasn’t about to drive himself insane. 

Finding that inner balance, the center of his psyche and spirit, Ryan breathed out through his nose in a long exhale. Drew in his will. Whispered words that echoed far more than should have been possible. 

He felt the tug in his soul, the drain that told him the spell had been cast correctly. With strict control, he kept his gaze only on the items on the table. It could be dangerous to catch a glimpse of something outside his apartment walls.

The medallion looked the same as it had with just the glasses. A warm glow of shapes and symbols, marking the protective nature of the enchantments on it. Ryan’s shoulders slumped in relief. Careful not to pass his hand over the air above the candles or the drawn circle, he started to reach up to take the glasses off. 

A thin thread of black flame wove it’s way between the symbols. 

Ryan went completely still, not quite believing his eyes. He had never seen anything like that before. 

He ignored the growing headache that was starting to make his temples pound, and he leaned closer, squinting at the tiny ribbon of fire. It wrapped around each enchantment in a continuous flow, looping back and forth in a sinuous pattern. At first, Ryan worried that it was slowly tearing them apart, but on closer inspection, wherever the flame touched a symbol, it glowed a little brighter. Warmer. It looked like the fire was weaving the enchantments together. Strengthening them. 

But it was a _dark_ flame. The more he looked at it, the more convinced Ryan became that it really was the same kind of energy one saw off of demons. Which was horribly disturbing. 

Sharp pain behind his eyes made him blow the candles out. He could feel the snap of the spell ending and he slumped forward, abruptly exhausted. 

Fuck, sometimes he could completely understand why some humans sought more power from demons. It was disheartening that such a simple spell could leave him so tired. 

He took the glasses off with shaking fingers and placed them gently on the table. And he stared at the innocent looking necklace for a long time. 

Ryan would be the first to admit that he wasn’t an expert in interpreting the sight. He knew the basics and how to write a report on what he saw, but the subtle nuances of symbolism and meaning behind it all was lost on him. And doubling his sight with both glasses and spell would probably skew everything he saw anyways. 

But he didn’t get the sense that the spell, the power he had seen amongst his medallion’s protections, was evil. It _was_ demonic. Only the demonic could have that dark sheen to it. And yet, there hadn’t been a sense of negativity or chaos to it. It hadn’t been devouring the enchantments or causing them to fail. 

Somehow, Shane had used demonic energy to strengthen and empower the protection enchantments on Ryan’s medallion. Enchantments that were pure in essence, powered by the love his family felt for him. By all rights, the two energies should have been sparking off each other, fighting for dominance. Instead, they came together into a cohesive whole that was almost pretty.

_I’m not afraid of you. You’re cool. And pretty._

The memory of a little girl’s voice and bright, trusting smile made Ryan start laughing out loud in shocked disbelief. He probably sounded like a mad man, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because Megan, the girl they had found in the fae’s basement, who had called herself Batman, had known what Shane was. Had taken one look at him and had known. 

God, no wonder the fae had wanted her if her sight was so powerful. 

That thought was barely a distraction to the fact that Ryan was apparently oblivious. Now he had to wonder just how many times someone had referenced Shane being a demon and he just hadn’t noticed. Did everyone know except him? 

No, that couldn’t be right. Captain Williams wouldn’t tolerate a legal demon in the PIU, let alone an illegal one. And Gibson, who was a demon himself, had never treated Shane with anything other than dismissive contempt. Well, other than the last time they had dealt with him. What had he said? Something about a demon touching Ryan and recognizing its handwork?

Ryan made a mental note to access the security camera recordings from that hallway. He could vaguely remember Gibson saying a name. And some of the more notorious demons had histories that he would be able to look up. Somehow, after all of this, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Shane was one of them. 

With renewed confidence, Ryan picked up his medallion and looped the chain over his head. Illegal demon or not, liar and body-snatcher or not, Shane had done his best to protect Ryan. And that validation of his trust made Ryan feel so much lighter. 

Not that he thought he could face Shane just yet. 

\-------------------------

The next day was Ryan’s day off, thank God. He really didn’t want to claim another sick day and there was no way he’d be able to function around Shane in a normal manner. 

Even though he had been comforted by the knowledge that the spell on his medallion had been beneficial, he still hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed. He had spent the night on the couch, staring morosely at a bottle of tequila whenever he woke up. It remained unopened, but the temptation to drink had been nearly unbearable. 

Maybe he needed to hide his liquor. Just for a few days. 

A long sleepless night and hours upon hours of stressed, incoherent thinking meant that Ryan felt like shit. He was sure that if someone showed up at his apartment to check on him, they would have no problem with believing he was sick. 

Ryan didn’t think anything about his actions when he turned on his laptop and opened an incognito tab. He was stressed, he felt like absolute hell, and he was a healthy male in his 20s. It would be weirder if he didn’t take the opportunity to masturbate. If nothing else, he’d have a clearer head. 

So really, it was business as usual as he clicked around through various porn videos, looking for something that would catch his eye. 

Then, completely innocently, or as innocent as one could get while looking at porn, his eyes caught on the ‘Demon’ category. 

A peculiar feeling of disgusted interest stole over Ryan. 

He had seen demon porn before. Sick curiosity in high school had made sure of that. But he had never been able to turn off the knowledge that the demon’s host body probably had no input in what was going on in the videos. He knew that most people didn’t remember their time while possessed, but that didn’t make it better. The idea of watching his own body do such carnal acts without willing it was disturbing on a level that made him sick to his stomach. 

_Shane is walking around in a body that isn’t his._

Ryan could feel a flush start all the way from the top of his head down to his chest. The memory of Shane pressing down on top of him, kissing him, was startling clear. Suddenly, he felt like he could guess why it had all felt so weirdly good. 

Because Shane was a demon. And could manipulate emotion. He was _literally_ an incubus. 

Fuck, that shouldn’t have been an arousing thought. Especially after thinking about how that wasn’t really his body. 

Ryan clicked on the link before he could stop himself, feeling like his heart was in his throat. It didn’t matter what it was, he was just going to watch a few seconds of it, sate his curiosity, and move to something better. That was it. 

Despite the fact that he lived alone and had for years, he couldn’t help but feel like a teenager all over again, worried that he was about to be caught. He ignored the urge to get up and double check his locks and clicked on the first video he saw. 

And of course, the host of the demon in the video was a tall, lanky, white guy. Because of course it was. 

Ryan scowled and started to click away, but something made him stop. Made him watch through the corny intro and the poor camera angles. 

The demon had pitch black eyes and long gray horns that curled up like a bull's. The rest of his features were unimportant. Because Ryan couldn’t look away from those horns. God, did Shane have something like that? The concept was weirdly fascinating.

At one point, the demon picked up the other man like he weighed nothing. That was a thought that left Ryan reeling. Demons were strong. _Really_ strong.

Like most bottoms in porn, the human was vocal and loud, acting like the demon had the best cock he’d ever felt in his life. But Ryan couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something genuine in the man’s words. Something about the shakiness of his voice and the wild way he was moving told Ryan that he wasn’t acting. 

It made sense, in a way. Incubi were skilled at manipulating their partner’s emotions in order to generate the kind of lust they needed to feed off of. Some people became addicted to it, chasing after that high to the exclusion of all else. Legal demons that chose to feed off lust were closely monitored because of that. But there were hundreds of them and sometimes a victim slipped through the cracks. 

Ryan had seen what happened to someone that died from feeding an incubus too often. It hadn’t been a pretty sight. 

And yet, even with that knowledge, the stuff he was watching on his screen was undeniably hot. The strength and the hungry, predatory expression. The sinfully expert way the demon was reducing the other man to a babbling, incoherent mess. It left Ryan achingly hard. 

He felt a little betrayed by his dick, to be honest. 

When he came, it was to the thought of Shane with horns and black eyes, mercilessly holding him down. 

The instant the haze had lifted, Ryan flushed and hurriedly excited from the tab, a weird squirming feeling of shame and embarrassment making him snap his laptop closed a little too quickly. 

_Right. I’m just not going to think about it._

Which was easier said than done, but he had to go to work tomorrow and there was absolutely no way in hell he was facing Shane with demon porn on his mind. 

_Nope. Not thinking about it._

The rest of the day was spent in meditation, despite the fact that Ryan hated it with a passion. Unfortunately, it was a useful tool for balancing oneself before spellcasting. And while Ryan didn’t plan on casting any more spells, it was also handy for calming emotions and resetting mental barriers. And if Ryan had ever needed to calm himself, this was definitely the time. 

And if Shane was a demon, he would know something was wrong right away if Ryan showed up to work leaking his fear and anger all over the place. 

Not to mention the slowly growing guilt he was starting to feel over all of the things he had said about demons over the years.

It was after dinner when Shane called again. Probably because most of his text messages had gone unanswered. This time, Ryan convinced himself to answer it. 

“Hey, Ryan. You still puking all over the place? Or was it the other way around? Was it poop? Is it everywhere?” Shane launched into his idea of a comedy spiel as soon as Ryan took a breath to speak, but there was honest worry under his words. 

Ryan smiled despite himself. Fuck, it was so weird that a demon cared about him enough to call. “Do you really want to know the details?”

There was silence. Ryan could just imagine the face Shane was making.

“I’m fine,” he continued, glad that demons couldn’t sense emotions over the phone. “I’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Damn. I was getting so much work done without you in the way.”

“Fuck off,” Ryan said with a roll of his eyes. Then, without prior thought, he started to ask, “Shane? Are you-”

He stopped himself. He wasn’t even sure what he had been about to say. Probably something stupid, like ‘Are you a demon?’. And that was not the right way to approach that conversation. Not in the slightest. 

Shane made a questioning hum. 

“Nevermind, it was a stupid thought.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“Haha,” Ryan replied, the sarcasm clear. “I’m going to make sure to cough on you, just to make you sick.” Which was a weird threat to make when he wasn’t actually sick. 

“Good luck, buddy, I have the constitution of an ox.”

“The fuck does that even mean?”

Shane laughed, a quiet huff of breath. “I’m not really sure. Maybe I’m good at pulling a wagon.”

Ryan almost- _almost_ \- asked Shane if he had the horns of an ox, too, but managed to turn it into a slightly wheezing laugh instead. “At least you’d finally be good for something. Hey, I’m gonna go.” _Before I say something I regret._

“Alright. Glad to know you’re better.”

“Yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow,” Ryan said, then hung up. And just kind of stared at his phone for a long while. 

He had just had a pleasant conversation with a demon. Granted, Shane was pretending to be human still, but that didn’t deny the fact that Ryan had gotten through an entire exchange without calling a demon a leech or a jockey. 

Weird. 

\-----------------------------------------------

 

Ryan went to work an hour earlier than he usually did, hoping to beat Shane there. He had a couple of plans to put in place, and they would be easier if Shane wasn’t there to overhear his phone calls.

To his shock and chagrin, Shane was already in the building for some reason. He was in the break room with Fulmer and Yang, all three of them watching the comedy duo special that was the MEs trying to explain their current alchemical experiment. How Kornfield and Habersberger found the time and money to keep throwing expensive ingredients together like that was beyond him. 

Both Yang and Shane glanced up as Ryan entered the room and he had to take a moment to realize that yes, the two supernatural beings in the room had sensed his presence before the humans had. Wow, he had really overlooked a lot of things when it came to Shane, hadn’t he? 

Shane nodded towards him in greeting, giving him a small smile. The rest ignored him, since Habersberger was currently pantomiming an explosion. 

“So Zach adds potassium nitrate without telling me-”

“-I thought it was the potassium chloride! I was trying to stop it from exploding again!”

“-and the entire mixture goes gray. Poof! Gray!”

Yang interjected, with slow incredulity, “You’re saying you made magic gunpowder? In your apartment?”

“You must have been downright zozzled,” Shane added, shaking his head in amusement,

Ryan did a double take, suddenly aware of how everyone else in the room was looking at Shane with confused expressions. Oh God, Shane’s penchant for using old slang seemed like such a pointlessly revealing habit, instead of the eccentricity that Ryan had originally thought it was. 

Before the growing nerves could turn into panic, Yang quirked one eyebrow. Then drawled, “Ossified.”

Shane grinned. “Blotto.”

“Half overseas.”

“Bent.”

Then Habersberger jumped in. “Fuckin’ _shitfaced_.

“Wrong decade, Keith,” Yang said, “But I’m impressed you got it.”

“Hey, Madej’s not the only one that watches old movies,” Habersberger defended. 

Everyone chuckled and moved on to a different topic, hopefully forgetting the exchange and Shane’s anachronistic word choice. Ryan relaxed. Christ, he wasn’t cut out for protecting secrets. 

When everyone started to look at their phones and watches, making motions like they were getting ready to leave, Ryan spoke up. 

“Hey, Eugene,” he said quietly. “You got a minute before you go?”

Yang glanced to the east, as if he could see the sun through the wall. Though Ryan supposed he was old enough that he probably did have a good sense of where the sun was. “You can come wait with me for my Uber, I suppose .”

The others muttered their goodbyes to Yang, who acknowledged them with a brief wave of his hand. Ryan followed behind him, trying to arrange his questions in his head. And trying not to psyche himself out. 

They stepped out of a side door, into the muggy heat that had never dissipated during the night. 

“Good Lord,” Yang said, pulling absently at his tie. “I don’t know how you can stand being in the sun during the summer.”

“I was born here. Guess I’m used to it.,” Ryan replied as naturally as he could. He was never sure how to respond when vampires talked about the sun. 

“So was I and I still hate it.”

Ryan turned to look at him, a little surprised that Yang would volunteer that information. He was usually incredibly private. “Really?”

“1916, about ten miles from here.”

What little Ryan could remember from his history classes about turn of the century California made him wince. “Ah. That must have been, uh, rough.” After a second, he grinned and said, “You look great for your age, dude.”

Yang shrugged, then rolled his eyes. “Never heard that one before.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence. Ryan started picking at his nails in a distracted way, trying to think of a way to broach the subject of Shane without it being jarring. 

“So why has your heart been beating like a rabbit’s since you came in?”

Ryan startled, going wide-eyed for a second, then he glared at Yang. “Because _that_ question will make my heartbeat slower.”

Yang just smirked at him.

“Ah fuck,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This might sound stupid. And if you say everything I say sounds stupid, I’m going to hide gym socks in your desk.”

“Pretty sure that’s harassment.”

Ryan snorted, then took a deep breath. “Have you ever noticed anything odd about Shane?”

Yang raised one eyebrow, giving him a look that spoke volumes. 

“No, not like, normal weird.” Ryan glanced away, speaking to the ground. “Like...Weird in a not human way.”

Yang went completely still next to him. 

There was a difference between vampiric stillness and the demonic version. A subtle one, but it was there all the same if one knew what to look for. With demons, it was as if they became statues, their bodies controlled muscle by muscle. It never looked entirely real when they did it. Vampires, on the other hand, had the stiff, rigid quality of death. Like rigor mortis had set in. 

Even out of the corner of his eye, seeing Yang have the mobility of a corpse was _creepy_. 

Yang turned his head, the movement jerking and awkward. “What are you asking, Bergara?” There was a warning in his voice. 

But Ryan had never had good survival instincts. 

“Nothing bad, I swear,” he said quickly. “I’m not like, about to go villager with a pitchfork on his ass, I just want to know if I’m going crazy or not.”

Yang continued to stare at him. It was starting to freak him out. 

“Look, I get that there’s this unspoken rule that you can’t tell humans about other supernatural people, and I respect that, I’m just-” Ryan hesitated, then thought ‘fuck it’. “I’m worried about him. And you know he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

He willed his heartbeat to stay steady as Yang leaned imperceptibly closer. 

“If you value your career, don’t ask anyone else.”

Ryan blinked. “Wha-”

“Not even Ruggirello. Captain Williams doesn’t look very fondly on people getting nosy about species. And he shouldn’t. Because if someone wants that to be private, that decision should be respected.”

Feeling like his face was on fire, Ryan nodded, trying not to show how ashamed he felt. So that’s what it felt like to be scolded by someone that was older than a century. 

He stood there awkwardly as a car with the Uber sticker rolled up. Yang twitched a little, becoming a normal, living, breathing person again. Just before he stepped away from Ryan, he let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fuck’s sake, fine. Sometimes Madej’s heartbeat is wrong. When he’s at his desk, not talking or moving around a lot, it’s almost nonexistent. Nearly gave _me_ a heart attack when I first noticed it,” he murmured in a voice so low that Ryan almost couldn’t hear it. “I’m assuming one of the iron tolerant cold fae. But don’t be a dick about it.”

Ryan managed to garble some kind of farewell as Yang got into the car, too surprised to really respond coherently. 

Wendy had also suggested that Shane was a fae. Was Ryan wrong? Shane’s pupils had looked like a cat’s, which wasn’t common for demons, but could be found in some fae. 

But the energy, the dark flame that had twined itself through his medallion, had definitely been demonic. 

Ryan rubbed at his forehead, groaning in frustration. Shane was such a motherfucker for making him go through all of this. 

He shook his head and went back inside the building, making his way towards the tiny office that housed all of the security camera feeds. Luckily, he didn’t run into Shane, so he didn’t have to make some kind of excuse for why he was going there. 

It was probably too easy to convince the officer working at the security desk to give him access to the tapes from Gibson’s visit a few days ago. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Ryan’s rivalry with Gibson was so well-known in the station that the officer just laughed and pointed him towards an unoccupied computer. 

Since the footage he wanted was barely a full minute, it didn’t take long for him to find and watch the grainy video multiple times. He strained to hear what Gibson said, replaying the soundbyte over and over again, barely able to make it out. 

‘Oh Nahash, I recognize that handiwork.’

Ryan scribbled down different spellings on a scrap piece of paper he found in the desk. 

_Nahash. Nahawsh? Nahach?_ He tapped his pen against his chin, silently mouthing the word to himself. The ‘ha’ part had been said with strong emphasis, to the point that it was the only part of the name that Ryan had been able to understand clearly. _Nahasch_?

He brought out his phone to look up the variations, when he guiltily noticed the time. Alright, maybe he would save the search for later and actually work. Since that was what he was paid to do. 

It didn’t surprise him when Shane appeared at his desk an hour later, looming over him in a way that Ryan usually found annoying. Right now, knowing that that Shane wasn’t human, it made him embarrassingly uneasy. 

For fuck’s sake, all he had to do was look at the honestly pleased expression on Shane’s face to know that the man wasn’t going to do anything to him. 

“Glad to see you back,” Shane said softly, leaning down so that his words could be heard. He put his hand on the desk to support himself, his fingers nearly brushing against Ryan’s arm. It was an oddly pleasant and intimate greeting from the man, considering that his usual greetings to Ryan were insults shouted across the room. “You good to see what info I was able to get on the demon yesterday?”

For one brief second, Ryan thought Shane meant himself, which made absolutely no sense, but that didn’t stop him from asking, “The cannibal demon?”

That got him a squinted look before Shane hummed and nodded. “That’s a good descriptor for him, actually. Cannibal demon. I like it.”

“You would.”

Shane smiled, the expression making the corners of his eyes crinkle comically. Fuck, why did Ryan think that goofy face was so cute? 

On a demon. 

Goddamnit. 

Ryan made himself focus on his current task; gathering proof that Shane _was_ a demon. He made a show of looking at his watch. “Actually, I’ve got an appointment at Calvary Mortuary with Father Luna to ask him some questions. You should come with me.” 

He watched closely, but Shane’s reaction was the same as it always was towards anything religious. Complete apathy. “Sure, I don’t have anywhere to be until four.”

“Oh?” Ryan asked, standing up and trying not to react to the fact that there was barely an inch of space separating them. “Hot date?”

Shane made a face. “Banshees.”

“Wait, really? Are you taking Ruggirello or Jeong?”

After running his hand through his hair, making it stand up in a fluffed mess, Shane awkwardly said, “Ah, no.”

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “...Timpone?”

“No one, actually.”

“But I thought banshees only-” For once, Ryan’s brain managed to think ahead of what he was saying, and he closed his mouth so fast he bit his tongue. Banshees were well-known for only speaking to women or other supernatural beings. Or members of the family that they watched over. 

Wait, Shane couldn’t be about to say-

“The uh, Madej banshee lives in LA. She followed me here.”

Ryan couldn’t contain his loud exclamation that made half the room turned to stare at him.

“Damn, Ryan,” Shane said, his mouth twitching into an amused smirk. “Trying to deafen our werewolves?”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan hissed, pushing at him. “I can’t believe you never told me you had a family banshee.”

“Never came up.”

Ryan growled in exasperation and pushed passed Shane, his mind running a mile a minute. Having a banshee watching over the family wasn’t something that someone would lie about. Which meant that there was a fae watching for the death of the last member of Shane’s branch of the family. But was it just for the body Shane was inhabiting or for Shane himself? Would a banshee be able to tell the difference? Would they care? 

The sound of Shane falling into step behind him was far more comforting than it should have been. 

They were a few minutes into their drive to the mortuary when Shane started to bring out his phone. 

Ryan slapped at his hand automatically, muttering, “If I have to listen to the Arctic Monkeys one more time I’m going to push you out of the car.”

Then he had a moment of pure terror. 

_I just fucking smacked a demon_.

He forced the fear back out of pure stubbornness, frantically scrambling to focus on the road in front of him. 

Shane didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. He just mock-pouted and put his phone back in his pocket. “I thought you liked them.”

“I did until I heard the exact same album so many times that I’m going to be singing it when I’m _dead_.”

“That’d make your funeral pretty rockin’, actually.”

Ryan smiled, though he tried to hide it. 

“So,” Shane said after a moment, a studied casualness to his voice that made Ryan’s hackles rise. “What got you so scared the other day? Before you ran out of the station like a bat out of hell?”

For a second, Ryan was torn between fear and sheer incredulity that a demon had just made a joke about Hell. He made himself ignore both emotions, trying to summon the kind of affront he would usually have to such a question. 

“Fuck you, I wasn’t scared,” he said, trying push as much annoyance into his voice as he could. 

“You looked like you’d seen a ghost, Ryan.”

“I was _sick_ ,” Ryan emphasized, hoping that his emotions wouldn’t betray the lie. In an effort to change the topic, he theatrically groaned. “And I can’t believe you called my mom.”

“I was worried,” Shane said simply. 

Unsure how to respond to that, Ryan made a show of merging into a lane, using driving as an excuse to remain quiet. 

“She invited me to your next barbecue.”

“Really? The last time she did that was when she was trying to set us... up.” Ryan sighed. “Shane, what did you do?”

“I may have told her that you stopped dating whatshisface four months ago.”

Ryan made a noise of pure betrayal. “Damn it, you know I’ve been using him as an excuse to dodge blind dates. You fucking snitch!” He glanced over long enough to catch Shane’s expression, a mixture of sheepish guilt and childish glee. 

“She started asking me if I was seeing anyone, I needed something to distract her.”

“God, you were definitely the younger brother,” Ryan said without thought, their banter, the familiar flow of it, making him forget for a moment that he was actually talking to a demon. As far as he knew, demons didn’t have families. 

But Shane didn’t hesitate or fall silent. He just smiled, a wistfully nostalgic expression. “Yeah. Yeah, I was a brat.”

Only the fact that he had to watch the traffic kept Ryan from turning and staring at Shane. Fuck, that had sounded like genuine grief. Like Shane was fondly remembering deceased family members. 

Ryan softly said, “You still are,” feeling oddly relieved when Shane huffed out a quiet laugh.

Why would Shane show such honest emotion over missing a family that he would have never known? Shane Madej had been found at the scene of the car accident in a coma. That _had_ to have been when Sh- when the demon had possessed the body. Ryan knew that more powerful demons could access memories left in the host’s brain, but only memories wouldn’t impart the same familial connections that actually living with someone would.

Had Shane always been possessed?

Ryan frowned to himself. The possibility of a child being possessed was not one he wanted to think about. 

Damn. He had no idea what to believe anymore. 

The Calvary Mortuary was one of the oldest cemeteries in LA, featuring one of the few large, unpaved spaces in the entire city. The ornate mortuary buildings were surprisingly gothic for southern California, but they lent a solemnity to the area that befitted its purpose. Tucked away to one corner was a small chapel that offered Mass every day. Ryan headed towards it, pulling his glasses out of his pocket as he went. 

Overall, the surroundings were peaceful, despite the knowledge that there were hundreds of bodies buried in the ground around him. He felt a little bad that he was about to shatter it. 

Shane grumbled something behind him, knowing what was coming. 

Ryan planted his feet in the grass, drew in his will, and whistled once. It was a sharp sound that hurt even his ears, but it was worth it. As soon as he felt something brush against his awareness, he slipped the glasses on. And grinned. 

“Who's a good boy!”

Images of fur and claws swam in front of his eyes for a disorienting second before resolving into the blurry, misty figure of a large, fuzzy, black dog. Ryan kneeled down, reaching his hands out and concentrating. If he wasn’t paying attention, his hands would pass right through the poor thing, but with the right effort, he could pet the dog that deserved all the love in the world. 

The dog wiggled its butt in excitement, the movement streaking Ryan’s vision. A large dark tongue lolled out of its mouth and it tried to lick at Ryan’s fingers, but he dodged and dug them into the ruff of fur at the dog’s neck. “Who’s a good boy?” he repeated in a whisper, not entirely able to hide the way his voice shook. “You are, yes you are.”

God, he hated the process that created a church grim. He understood why they were such popular guardians, but he could never imagine killing and burying some poor dog on church grounds. It’d be easier for him to stab himself. 

This particular grim was old. One of the oldest on the West coast. Ryan could feel the power in the fur that brushed against his skin. While he did intend on speaking with Father Luna, he had brought Shane here with an ulterior motive. Grims protected their territory from all metaphysical threats. Including demons.

“You’re the only person I know that makes friends with church grims.”

Ryan carefully watched the dog, studying its reaction to Shane. “If you’d put on the glasses, you could make friends too,” he said with too much eagerness, as if he was willing to hand them over right that second. 

He could remember Lucifer’s words about demons and second sight glasses with perfect clarity.

Shane did move closer, but he only muttered something about dog lovers and stood there. 

After a moment of watching the two of them, Ryan realized something. Shane was casually looking around at the gravestones, but not once did his gaze stray in the direction of the grim. And the grim’s eyes were focused on Ryan, but it’s ears kept flicking towards Shane, keeping track of him. 

They were definitely aware of each other. And each one was pointedly refusing to acknowledge the other.

Well that was a little amusing. And told Ryan that Shane was definitely _something_. Grims ignored humans that didn’t interact with them. If Shane had been human, it wouldn’t have even noticed him. 

At least Ryan knew that Shane didn’t mean any harm to the chapel or the graveyard. The grim wouldn’t have been sitting so calmly, otherwise. 

“Ah, Sergeant Bergara!” A cheerful voice echoed from the entrance of the chapel. 

“You told a priest you talk to maybe twice a year that you got promoted?”

Ryan felt his face go warm. “Shut up, Shane.” With one last ruffle of the grim’s fur, Ryan stood and took off his glasses. He blinked down at them, a little taken aback when he realized that he didn’t have a headache. There wasn’t even any mild discomfort. 

Huh. Weird. 

Pushing his confusion away, Ryan turned and started to walk towards the chapel. “Father Luna,” he greeted, shaking the man’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Luna said, his smile warm. “You as well, Sergeant Madej.”

Shane nodded politely, but didn’t say anything. Ryan tried not to read into that. 

“So what can I do for you gentleman? Or did you only visit to pet our grim?”

Ryan shuffled his feet a little in embarrassment, even though Luna’s teasing was delivered good-naturedly. Something about Father Luna always made him feel vaguely guilty, like the man could tell just by looking that he hadn’t attended a Mass in years. “We were wondering if you had noticed any differences in the number of people seeking help for possessions.”

Luna frowned in thought, clasping his hands behind him. “How do you mean? If there’s been more reported illegal possessions?”

“Or fewer.”

“I don’t know the exact numbers,” Luna said after some contemplation. “But now that you mention it, I have had more free time in the past month. I thought perhaps headquarters was going easy on me in my old age, but it’s possible there’s just been fewer occurrences. Is there something going on?”

Ryan couldn’t meet those sharp eyes. “Ah, we’re just investigating a case, trying to come at it from multiple angles. “

“I see,” Luna said, his raised eyebrow making it obvious that he knew Ryan was dodging the question. Christ, did priests practice that expression in front of a mirror?

After a few more questions that didn’t really give them any new information, they wished Luna a farewell and headed back towards the car. 

“That could have been done over the phone,” Shane whispered, sounding exasperated. 

Ryan turned wide eyes towards him. “And _not_ taken the opportunity to pet the grim?”

Shane sighed, his mouth twitching as he tried to hide a smile. 

“So would demons know not to try and possess people right now? Like, is there some kind of demon hotline, reporting the gossip and dangers in this realm?” Ryan asked, trying to make it sound completely like a joke. He was actually curious, though. Were demons aware of what happened on Earth?

Looking like he was trying to hold back a laugh, Shane shrugged. “I’m sure the news would get out somehow. There isn’t much that can permanently kill a demon, so some might decide that coming here isn’t worth it.”

“You think there’s a demonic version of Matt Lauer? ‘Don’t go to Earth, you might be eaten. And now over to the weather. Al?’”

Shane snickered. “Maybe the Today Show is shown in the demons’ dimension.”

Ryan laughed, but for a second, he had to actually wonder. 

Just as they reached the car, Shane pulled his buzzing phone out of his pocket, frowning at the number he saw. “Sorry, I need to take this. I’ll just be a minute.”

Ryan watched him walk away, once again thrown by his continued attraction towards the man despite knowing he was a demon. After realizing that he was staring, he forced himself get into the car and pulled out his own phone. 

He had meant to check his email, but the burning curiosity that he had been desperately ignoring made him bring up Google instead. Making sure that he could see in the side view mirror that Shane was still a few yards away, he typed in ‘Nahash’ with trembling fingers. 

The very first result was a Wikipedia page. He took a deep breath, then tapped the link. He read the first paragraph as quickly as he could, trying to absorb the information. But his eyes kept returning to the first line. 

Nahash meant ‘serpent’ in Hebrew.

Ryan stared unseeing at his phone for a breathless moment. Shane’s pupils had been slit. Like a snake’s. And _fuck_ , Wendy had said that sometimes he smelled like snake skin. 

Did that mean-?

_No, he’s not the fucking snake from Eden_. Demons liked to take the characteristics of the culture they first encountered. Maybe Shane had originally possessed a particularly devout Jewish person. And using that as a name didn’t actually mean anything. Fuck, Lucifer was calling herself _Lucifer_ , and Ryan didn’t believe she was actually the Devil. 

It was probably just a demon’s way of trying to appear cooler than they actually were. Not that he had ever seen Shane go out of his way to appear cool.

The sound of the passenger side door opening nearly made Ryan crack his head on the window from how hard he jerked in surprise. He hastily shoved his phone into his pocket, turning in time to meet Shane’s amused smirk. “Looking at porn on your phone? Just couldn’t wait, could you?”

“Fuck off,” Ryan grumbled, turning the key in the ignition. “The screen is too small, anyways.”

God, he loved Shane’s surprised laugh. 

The drive back to the station was surprisingly normal, considering that Ryan’s mind kept wanting to repeat ‘serpent.’ There was a couple hours left before Shane needed to meet with the banshees, so they wandered back towards their desks, chatting idly as they strolled. 

“So I’ve been thinking about bringing this to Williams’ attention,” Ryan admitted, casually moving behind Shane so that Rugirrello’s partner could walk past them. “It sounds like we have something of a deadline, and I’d like to get more eyes on the ground.”

Shane glanced over his shoulder, his expression hesitant. “We do need more information, but I’m-”

A crash made everyone in the room pause and look up, including Ryan. 

The lights dimmed. 

Ryan was struck by _pain_.

The most intense headache he had ever felt in his life stabbed through his skull. It was so sharp that he couldn’t breath, couldn’t see. Everything was dark, an endless instant of sheer agony. 

Dimly, the pain distant compared to the screaming torture that was his head, Ryan felt like someone punched him on the chest with a red hot poker. Suddenly the headache was gone, the absence so abrupt that he felt oddly empty. He stumbled forward, his mind racing in fear and confusion. 

The odd silence around him made Ryan realize that his eyes were screwed shut, and he managed to peel his eyelids open. 

The first thing he saw was Ruggirello’s partner, frozen mid-step. He was twisted at the waist, as if looking towards the front of the room. But he wasn’t moving. _What the hell_?

Ryan blinked rapidly a few times to clear his vision and looked frantically around. 

Everyone was completely still, statues in the middle of various tasks. It was as if someone had taken a remote and pressed pause. 

Voices in a harsh, guttural language from behind him made him turn. And standing in front of Shane, amongst the wreckage of the glass doors that led to the rest of the building, was someone Ryan had never seen before. A young black woman, a trail of blood down the side of her face from an obvious wound on her head. 

But what made Ryan gasp out loud was the way skeletal, bat-like wings rose from her shoulders. Only incredibly powerful demons could manifest _wings_. 

Both Shane and the demon startled, Shane whirling and falling into a defensive crouch. Then his eyes widened. “Ryan?!”

He reached out, as if to tell Ryan to stop. 

His fingers were tipped in wickedly sharp, black claws. 

Shane glanced down at his own fingers, then flinched, bringing his hands back towards his chest. “Ryan, I-”

From behind Shane, Ryan could see the woman reach out. And pick up a computer in one hand like it was a paperweight. She pulled back and threw it straight at Shane’s head. 

“Shane, behind-!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was pointed out to me that I like cliffhangers. 
> 
> I'm...not sorry. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the support! It means so much to me, y'all have no idea.


	6. Chapter 6

There was no time for Ryan to complete his warning as the cheap, heavy monitor sailed towards his partner. Shane started to turn, to bring his arm up, but it was too late. It slammed screen first into the side of his head at a speed that was breathtaking. 

The monitor hit him with such force that it shattered into a hundred pieces, glass and plastic exploding from the impact. It should have snapped Shane’s head back, made him stumble and fall to the ground. 

He didn't even sway. 

Shane slowly turned his head to stare at the woman. Blood dripped from a cut on his cheek and glass glittered in his hair. 

Ryan didn’t remembering moving, but his gun was out and pointed at the woman as soon as the last of the glass clinked to the ground. “Get down on the fucking ground,” he demanded, falling back into the comfort of training. If it hadn’t been for his experience with tense situations, he probably would have been as frozen as those around him, caught in fear and confusion.

Both Shane and the demon ignored him. She said something, something that bit at Ryan’s eardrums and buzzed against his skin. But it wasn’t a spell. It was just words. Whatever she was saying, it sounded mocking. 

When Shane replied in the same language, making the air sizzle and churn, Ryan nearly dropped his gun. 

“Hey,” he shouted, too aware of how the handle of his gun was slipping in his sweaty grip. “Get on the ground! I’m not going to repeat myself!”

Finally, pure black eyes shifted to meet his. She smiled, a cruel twist of her mouth. “Ah, Bergara. He has a soft spot for you.”

Ryan let out a noise of frustration. “How do you all know my fucking name?!”

The woman’s response was to mutter a word that _was_ a spell, the intent behind it making his instincts cry out in warning. She flicked her fingers, almost dismissively. Ryan knew that gesture, knew what it meant. There was a curse headed right at him and there wasn’t much he could do but trust his medallion to keep him safe. 

He did the only thing he could do in the split second it took for the curse to reach him and he squeezed the trigger of his gun, firing two precise shots that hit the woman in the chest. Prudence told him that he should have aimed for her head, but if there was any chance to save the host, he had to try. And hope that his instant decision wasn’t about to get him killed. 

Even without second sight glasses, it seemed like Ryan could see the spell streak towards him, warping the air as it went. There wasn’t time to react or think

When it hit him, he _felt_ the chaotic malevolence that it was made of, the squirming mass of entropy that hungered for his life, his essence. He had an instant to panic, to open his mouth to scream, then light flared so bright from his necklace that it blinded him. 

The curse melted into nothing, tangibly withering away. 

Ryan blinked spots out of his vision, only allowing himself one fervent thought that he was _never taking that necklace off again_ , before looking towards the demon. 

She was fine. The bullets he had fired at her had done nothing. God _fucking_ damnit. He resettled his grip on his gun, for all the good it would do him. 

The cannibal demon, since that had to be who had taken over this poor girl, blinked once, looking honestly surprised. Then a faintly pitying expression crossed her face. “Just how much power did you use to protect your little pet, Nahash? This is going to be easier than I thought.”

Shane just continued to stare at her, his clawed fingers twitching slightly. Ryan could see how the tendons in his neck were tensed, like he was physically holding himself in place. Just what the fuck was Shane doing? 

“I’m surprised that you even have the power left to stop time like this-” _Wait, what_?- “ You always were the weakest of the old ones,” she said casually. If it weren’t for the eyes and wings, she could have been any normal college student, standing and talking with a friend. Maybe a bitchy college student, admittedly, since even Ryan could pick up on the insult behind her next words. “Slinking around in the shadows, making others do the work for you. Even now, you can’t stand the thought of your precious humans finding out about you.” 

When Shane said nothing, her lip curled in disgust, a full, honest expression. “You would have actually been a challenge if you hadn’t hobbled yourself like this. You weak, pathetic, _fool_.”

Shane could have been made from stone for all the response he was giving. Ryan couldn’t take it any more, anger on his behalf making him step forward, even as he frantically tried to quiet the gibbering voice in the back of his head repeating ‘stopping time?!’

“I _will_ kill your host if I have to,” Ryan said, not sure himself if he was bluffing. 

She ignored him, which wasn’t really a surprise. Shane, however, didn’t. 

“Ryan,” he said, his voice strained. “Get out. Now.”

The woman actually rolled her eyes. “Too late for that, Nahash. Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

She flared her wings out, a swooping expanse of bone and skin that instilled an instinctual fear, then she gestured with both hands. 

Ryan could see the direction of the two spells she cast, could track their wavering movements through the disturbance in the air. One towards Ruggirello, the other towards Lim. Ryan dropped his gun and flung himself towards Ruggirello, who was closest. He slid across her desk and tackled her to the ground, feeling his hair stir as the curse barely missed him. Knowing it was coming back around, he curled over Ruggirello protectively and closed his eyes, praying that the spells on his medallion could take another hit. 

Another burst of light that glowed red from behind his eyelids.

Judging by the fact that he was still breathing and he could hear the demon make a short frustrated noise, his instinctual plan had worked. He peeked up over the desk, relieved to see Shane standing over Lim, who looked fine. Well. Oddly frozen, but still alive, which was what counted at the moment. 

The demon lazily flung another curse and this time Ryan could see Shane reach out and _catch_ the spell, even if he could only see the way it affected the air. 

“You can only keep this up for so long,” the demon taunted, her wings rustling as she took a step forward. She threw out another curse like it cost her nothing, as if the amount of power it would take to continually cast like this wasn’t staggering. Shane barely stopped it, his teeth gritted in obvious strain. 

“Drop the temporal spell and show everyone what you are or let one of your humans die? Which will it be first, do you think?” 

Neither of them were paying attention to Ryan. Which gave him a _stupid_ idea. 

Gently, apologizing silently, he placed Ruggirello on the ground, then he crept around her desk. Hoping that they were too busy to notice what he was doing, he edged past legs and more desks, damn near crawling at one point. 

More taunts from the demon, the crackle and feel of more curses, but Ryan ignored them, focusing on keeping his head down and his steps silent. 

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a minute, he was to the side of the demon. 

Not giving himself time to think, Ryan gathered himself, waited for the moment right before she waved her hand, and lunged at her. 

A wing swept around and slammed him so hard into a wall that the breath was knocked out of him. 

He lost track of time, then he came back to his senses flat on his back, the demon standing over him.

“Did you think I didn’t notice you, Bergara?” She asked, gently placing her foot down on his chest. In his shocked, gasping state, he had the wandering thought that she sounded familiar. She looked up at Shane. “I think I’ll eat this one. His bright, shiny soul must taste delicious.”

Ryan had enough time to despair that he was going to die to a demon wearing flip-flops, when Shane growled. 

It was a sound that reverberated, that sent echoes through the body and made instincts shaped by thousands of years of evolution clamor for flight. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t even something an animal could produce. 

It was purely demonic. 

The woman sniffed in disdain, shifting her weight onto Ryan’s chest. “Pretty tricks aren’t going to work on me. You don’t have anyone to hide behind this time, Nahash. The Serpent will finally-”

“Enough,” Shane said, the word sounding like it was being uttered by dozens of voices at once. It was an ability Ryan had heard before, but never so loudly, never with such power behind it. 

He didn’t even see Shane move. 

One moment there was a winged demon standing over him, the next she was several feet away, dangling from Shane’s grip on her throat. Ryan scrambled to his feet, open mouthed at what he was seeing. Shane held the demon as if she didn’t weigh any more than a pebble, his claws digging so hard that blood was trickling down her skin. She scrabbled at his hand for a moment, her wings beating frantically in her effort to get away, then she screamed out a spell in a choked voice. 

Ryan could feel her power gathering for something, could feel the energy behind it-

Then Shane fucking sneered. 

The universe stilled.

Ryan couldn’t see into the metaphysical plane. He didn’t need to. A blanket of power, so immense, so all-consuming that he couldn’t breathe through it fell over the entire room. Wind stirred, a physical manifestation that Ryan had only heard of, never seen. 

The demon’s eyes went wide. “H-how? You’re not Nahash.”

“Oh, I am,” Shane snarled, voice so low that it hissed. “But that’s not my only name. There’s so much you don’t know.”

Ryan couldn’t breathe. He _couldn’t breathe_.

“Shane,” he tried to gasp out, but it was a strangled whisper. He barely heard it in his own ears. He stumbled, clutching at his chest. 

That caught Shane’s attention. His glance flickered towards Ryan. 

The demon kicked at Shane, hard enough that it broke his grip. She didn’t waste any time snapping her wings back and forward, using them to push herself away from his grasp. Shane grabbed at her, but she dodged and disappeared. Into thin air. 

Shane bared his teeth in a snarl, picked up a desk and threw it _through_ the wall. 

Even suffocating under the pressure of that immense power, Ryan managed to make a noise of shocked terror. 

Somehow Shane heard that noise over the crash of falling drywall and sparking electrical workings. It snapped him out of whatever trance of anger he had been in. 

The power dissipated. Ryan fell to his knees, dragging in desperate gasps of air. Black spots were dancing in his vision, so he was startled when clawed fingers clutched onto the front of his shirt and pulled him up and forward into a too hard hug. 

Shane smelled like sulfur and smoke. Of something dry and organic. Snakeskin. 

The memory of Shane’s anger, of the power and the way he had thrown a piece of furniture through a wall like it was paper not even fifteen fucking seconds ago made Ryan flinch. He struggled out of the embrace, panting from fear and a continued lack of oxygen. 

There were no words for a long moment. 

What drew Ryan back into a semblance of control was the way his coworkers and friends were all still frozen. He made himself look up at Shane. The cut on his cheek was completely healed.

His partner, the man he loved, the _demon_ who was powerful enough that he had scared away another demon, was looking at him with such a devastated expression that Ryan had to turn away. 

“Can you break the camera system in the building?”

His voice sounded hoarse and broken to his own ears, but he chose not to think of why. 

Shane quietly said, “Yes.” 

“Do it,” Ryan ordered, trying to not to cringe when he realized that he had just given a command to the most powerful demon he had ever encountered. 

There was a sizzle, then a series of pops as the cameras in each corner of the room started to smoke. 

“The cannibal demon attacked and froze everyone in a spell no one knows. We weren’t in the room and weren’t affected by it. Ruggirello somehow managed to go wolf, which is why the room is trashed, but she didn’t seem to be herself,” Ryan said, forcing his tone dispassionate. _God, I’m sorry, Jen_. But werewolves going berserk were put through therapy. They weren’t banished from Earth. 

_Lying for a demon. Lying for a_ fucking _leech_.

“Break this...This time _thing_.”

“Ryan-”

“ _Just do it, Shane_ ,” He snapped, walking forward in an unsteady gait that nearly made him fall into a desk. But Ryan ignored his own shaking and stooped down to pick up his gun. 

There was a lurch, a twist in his soul and his stomach that nearly made him throw up, then sound and life returned to the room. The moment of stunned silence would have been funny if Ryan had any humor left to give. 

Then the shouting started. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

Before today, before he had witnessed a demon throwing fatal curses like they were candy, an angry Captain Williams had been the most terrifying thing Ryan had ever seen. 

The tall fae was shimmering slightly at the edges, sparkling green dust drifting off of him with every sharp, jerking movement as he yelled at any person that happened to be in his line of sight. No one blamed him for his anger. Everyone was on edge, fear and confusion giving way to frustrated anger as every officer began to realize there was nothing they could do except help clean up the wreckage. There was a tense moment when he yelled at Lim and Lim’s response was to just stare at him. Bravely, Ilnyckyj stepped between them, breaking the fae power games before they could begin. 

Prints were found on the door from the cannibal demon, as were some spots of blood, but knowing the identity of the host wouldn’t do much good. Even if the demon left her, she wouldn’t know anything. If she was even still alive. Ryan _had_ shot her twice in the chest, after all.

Ryan felt nothing at that. He was curiously numb to every feeling except for a growing undertow of hidden, roiling anger. Where he once would have done anything to earn the respect of Williams, would have never dreamed of lying to his superior, he looked the fae right in the eye and spun a pretty tale that turned him and Shane into accidental heroes. And Ruggirello into an out of control wolf defending her territory. The damage to her reputation was the only thing he allowed himself to feel regret for as he lied over and over again. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to be afraid of Williams when the most terrifying thing in the room was at his shoulder. 

Knowing that he was acting oddly, that his and Shane’s behavior would begin to raise red flags once the commotion died down, Ryan made some kind half-assed excuse about trying to follow a lead before it grew cold. 

They were out the door before anyone could think to protest. 

Shane followed him, and some lizard-brain part of Ryan hated the thought of having a _predator_ behind him, but he pushed it aside in favor of anger. He stalked towards his own car, then stared pointedly at Shane until he got into the passenger seat. 

He drove to his apartment for lack of a better option. As much as he would have loved to get into a screaming match with Shane in his car, leaving the station had given him the freedom to release the iron control he’d maintained over his emotions. Suddenly he felt jittery and overwhelmed with the need to move. To pace. The shaky, excess adrenaline was playing havoc with his body. 

At one point, someone cut in front of Ryan while he was trying to merge. He had lived all of his life in LA, so he was used to the shitty traffic. But something about this particular incident, even though it was nowhere near the worst thing he had ever seen, made hot anger course through him. 

“You fucking _cunt_ ,” he shouted, slamming the heel of his palm into the steering wheel. The pain only made him angrier. “Learn how to fucking signal, you piece of shit!” 

Ryan could feel Shane’s stare, but he just stomped on the accelerator and ignored it. Shane had no fucking _right_ to judge him right now. 

Not a single word more was spoken between them until they were both in Ryan’s apartment, but that had more to do with how hard he was gritting his teeth together than anything else. 

As soon as the door was locked behind them and Ryan was halfway towards his kitchen, Shane hesitantly said, “Ryan… 

Ryan paused mid-step, then spun on his heel, just so he could jab a pointing finger at the _demon_ fucking standing in front of his door. “No. You will wait until I’m ready to speak to you.” 

Somehow, miraculously, Shane just nodded and kept silent. The careful way he was avoiding looking at him almost made Ryan take back his harsh words, but he couldn’t seem to let go of his anger. Needing something to do with his hands, he continued into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, then sat it down on the counter without taking a single drink. 

“Did you know that demon was going to attack our fucking station, Shane? ” 

“No.” 

“Are you sure? Are you real fucking sure that wasn’t information your little friends passed to you?” 

“ _No_.” 

Ryan really wished he could believe Shane, believe the way the man looked stricken and offended. But his _best friend_ had been lying to him since day one. He stalked towards Shane, his jaw clenched to keep himself from saying something he’d regret. Distantly, Ryan was amazed that he was facing down his worst fear like this. “I am incredibly angry with you right now,” he said with stiff control. 

“I know,” was the soft reply. A quiet confession. “I can feel it.” 

And that, that acknowledgement of what Shane had been hiding, of what he was, snapped whatever thread of self control Ryan had. 

There wasn’t any thinking involved, no consideration to his plan. Ryan just pulled back and hit Shane as hard as he could on the chest. There was a strange thrill in the pain that radiated from his knuckles. 

Shane stumbled back, his expression falling into honest shock and pain. “Ow! What the _fuck_?” 

“You’re a demon, you can take it,” Ryan practically snarled, crowding into Shane’s space and not caring in the slightest that he had to look up to meet the taller man’s eyes. 

The pain on Shane’s face disappeared into a faint sneer that didn’t entirely hide the disappointment. “So because I’m not human, it’s okay to hit me? Is that it?” 

Having Shane admit to being not human somehow fed into Ryan’s anger. God, he was so _mad_. “Don’t fucking pretend to have the high ground here, you fucking _leech_.” 

Shane actually flinched, though his expression went smooth. And that blankness, that inhuman passiveness provoked Ryan even farther. He raised his fist again and hissed, “You’re no better than-” 

He caught the sight of his own clenched hand out of the corner of his eye. 

Ryan stopped mid sentence, abruptly realizing what he had just done. What he was about to do. He took one step back, then another, staring at his hands with horror. His skin was red from how hard he had punched Shane. Ryan knew his own strength. If Shane _hadn’t_ been a demon, he could have seriously hurt him. 

He could feel the blood drain from his face in pure shock. Ryan was aggressive, he was passionate, but he had never been the violent type. He had never thought he would hit a partner, a friend, _the man he loved_ in anger. And to have implied that it was excusable because Shane wasn’t human? That- That was- 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I-” 

And yet, underneath the horror and shame, anger still roiled and burned. He wanted to hit Shane again. He wanted to make Shane feel just how much he had suffered in the past couple of days, he wanted to - 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Ryan cried, wide-eyed, staring at Shane pleadingly. 

“Ryan,” Shane said carefully, as if he expected Ryan to take another swing. Then he tilted his head, his brow furrowed in worry. His eyes widened. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, closed his eyes and took one long breath. 

Abruptly, Ryan’s anger drained away. It was still there, still present, but everything else came crowding back. The shame, the fear, the embarrassment, it all overpowered the anger until Ryan no longer felt the inexplicable urge to inflict pain. 

This anger felt normal. Natural. 

It took a second for Ryan to realize just what had happened. “Were you affecting my emotions?!” 

Shane grimaced, then nodded. 

For one moment, fear that he had been so easily controlled swamped everything else. 

“You motherfucker,” Ryan said faintly, turning around and walking away so that he could sit on his couch. He propped his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands, overcome with the farce that his life had become. “Fuck,” he breathed, just to try and voice the entire damn situation. 

God, he had just hit his… Whatever Shane was to him. 

He could feel the couch dip as Shane sat next to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up. 

“Just how often have you affected me like that?” 

“No, Ryan, I swear,” Shane said. “I usually have better self-control than that,” He sounded desperate that Ryan believe him. “It’s no excuse, I know, but this week has been a bitch and hell, I didn’t even know I was doing it. I’m sorry.” 

Ryan straightened, dropping his hands so that they hung limply in between his knees. He made himself ignore the shame burning through him. Sitting there in a haze of regret wouldn’t do either of them any good. 

Feeling terror because Shane was powerful enough to make him so angry by _accident_ wouldn't do him any good, either. He took a deep breath, willing his heartbeat to calm down. He carefully didn’t think about how demons could feed off both fear and anger. “You don’t really seem like you’re angry enough to be causing such an intense aura.” 

“I’ve gotten really good at ignoring my anger,” Shane said with the air of someone voicing a massive understatement. 

“Christ, what would you do if you were angry enough to actually show it?” Ryan couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity. And to distract himself from the sick nausea that was making his stomach churn. _I hit him, I fucking_ hit _him_. 

Shane turned towards him, waiting until he glanced up. Then Shane looked him dead in the eye, and said, “You don’t want to know. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” 

Ryan stared for a second. And snorted so hard through his nose that it actually hurt. “Fuck off, Shane.” For fuck’s sake. This was why he loved him. Even if he was scared. 

A beat of silence passed and Ryan forced himself to say, “I’m sorry. For hitting you. Being under an anger influence is no excuse.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Shane said, looking away. “I probably deserved it.” 

He knew he should disagree with that statement, but Ryan couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. He wasn’t so angry that he wanted to punch Shane anymore, but he was still felt betrayed. He was still _mad_. That wasn’t something that was going to go away any time soon. 

After a long, awkward moment, Shane nearly mumbled, “You’re honestly taking this better than I expected.” 

“I’ve known since Tuesday.” 

Shane turned to stare at him so fast that Ryan was surprised he didn’t hear his neck crack. “You-? What?” 

“I saw you break your coffee mug. And fix it with a fucking wave of your hand.” 

“I knew you weren’t sick.” 

“It’s like you’re paid to solve things,” Ryan muttered, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ve had three days to think about it. I’m still really fucking mad at you, don’t get me wrong, but…” he trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. Unsure how to articulate that he still cared for Shane, even after everything. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t told me to get out of your friend,” Shane said, something bitter entering his tone. 

Ryan slumped back, throwing one arm over his eyes. God, he was tired. “I thought about it,” he admitted. “Thought real hard about it, actually. It’s not like we don’t have exorcists on speed dial.” 

__He could feel the way Shane shifted on the couch. Some kind of perverse, guilty satisfaction drifted through Ryan at making Shane worry._ _

__“But?” Shane asked after the silence stretched._ _

__“You’ve always been weird.”_ _

__A faint exhale, a ghost of a laugh._ _

“Even though you’ve been acting weird for you lately, you still-you still acted like you cared for me. You fucking called my mom to make sure I was alright, man. Some demon,” Ryan stuttered, swallowed, then made himself continue, “Some _other_ demon that had just taken over your body wouldn’t have bothered.” 

__“It’s not an act.”_ _

__Ryan shook his head, not in a negative, but because he couldn’t bring himself to think about that right now. He wasn’t sure what he felt about his greatest fear caring for him._ _

__There was something comforting about the weight of his arm on his face, about the darkness pressing down on his eyelids and the sink of the cushions under him. It was better than facing Shane, anyways._ _

__“I uh, I assume you have questions.”_ _

__Ryan barked out a harsh laugh. “No, shit, really?”_ _

__Another exhale, more of a fond sigh._ _

__Christ, a demon was fond of him. What the fuck._ _

__One question did present itself at the forefront of all the others. It was one that had repeated itself since he had found out about Shane._ _

__“Did you…” Ryan trailed off, then dropped his arm and sat up. He turned towards Shane, honestly a little shocked that he wasn’t met by oddly shaped pupils or pure black eyes. They were just a familiar brown. He licked his lips, then tried again. “Did you kill the Madejs?”_ _

__It distantly dawned on him that he was shaking._ _

__Shane stared at him blankly for a long moment. Then his face twisted in some undefinable emotion. “Don’t.” He nearly spat the word._ _

__“Shane Madej was found unconscious at the scene of the wreck.”_ _

__“Because it would have been suspicious if I had walked away unscathed,” Shane growled out. He looked normal and human. But the last time Ryan had seen Shane angry, he had thrown a desk through a wall. So it wasn't surprising when his heart tripped and thumped hard in fear. But he didn’t let that stop him._ _

__“This isn’t your body.”_ _

__“It’s been mine for over twenty years!”_ _

__Shane came to his feet in a jerk after his shout, running trembling hands through his hair before starting to pace back and forth in the small space next to the couch._ _

Ryan did some quick math, all of his previous assumptions crumbling around him. “Wait, you-twenty years? But you-Shane, _fuck_ , your body was sixteen at the accident.” 

__“When he was ten years old, Shane Madej went on a hiking trip and fell over a hidden cliff. Hit his head on the way down. He was gone even if his body was still alive,” Shane said in a hoarse voice, his pacing coming to a slow halt. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Like a fucking cuckoo bird I replaced him in the nest. Is that better or worse, Ryan? Would you prefer that I pretended to be someone I wasn’t, that I let a family raise me as their son? Or that I killed my own family? The family that loved me and taught me everything they knew?”_ _

__There was an answer to that, but Ryan wasn’t sure his was the correct one. If there even was a correct answer._ _

__When Ryan didn’t respond, Shane let out a little huff of breath. “Does it matter? I’m a demon, so you’ll assume whatever is the worst.”_ _

__“Shane, I-”_ _

__“You’ve been afraid of me since you came in this morning. That should have been a clue, but I’ve been skating through this life for so long that I thought it wasn’t possible someone could have found out. I should have known that I’d slip up around you.”_ _

__“I’m not afraid of you,” Ryan said, an inborn need to deny his fear making him blatantly lie._ _

__Shane opened his eyes and raised one eyebrow at him._ _

__Ryan scowled. “Shut up.”_ _

__A blink, then those warm brown eyes became a bright, vibrant green split by elliptical cat eye pupils. Well. Maybe snake pupils was more accurate._ _

__It would have taken more willpower than Ryan possessed not to flinch._ _

__Another blink, then Shane’s eyes were a familiar brown again. He sighed and gave Ryan a very pointed look._ _

__“That’s not fair, you dick,” Ryan snapped, a petulant frown verging into a pout. “I’m just not used to it yet.”_ _

__Shane tilted his head a little. Opened his mouth. Closed it without saying anything. Slowly, cautiously, he edged towards the couch, then sat on it far closer to Ryan than he had before. He took a deep breath, then hesitantly asked, “You want to get used to it?”_ _

__There was a cautious hope in his voice that would be so easy to break._ _

For a second, Ryan _wanted_ to hurt him. To hurt Shane the same way he had been hurt. But that was only the anger talking, he knew. 

__“You’ve lied to me for years. Why did you never tell me?” Ryan asked instead of answering._ _

__Shane’s brow furrowed in surprise. “Uh. I should think the fact that you’ve been shaking since the attack would be a fairly good indicator of why I never told you.”_ _

__“Adrenaline.”_ _

__“You’re a shitty actor.”_ _

__“So are you.”_ _

__An offended little sniff was Shane’s response. “Excuse you, I lived with demon hunters for six years. I’m amazing at acting.”_ _

__Ryan’s mouth quirked into a little half smile. “Half of the supernaturals in the PIU know you’re not human. Wendy said you smelled like fire and snakeskin.”_ _

__Wait, maybe he shouldn’t have said Wendy’s name. Damn it._ _

__Shane shrugged, unconcerned. “Ah, but I bet they all think I’m fae, don’t they?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Ryan slowly admitted. “But that just means you’re only sort of shitty at acting.”_ _

__“Still better than you.”_ _

It was an automatic reaction for Ryan to lightly punch Shane in the shoulder. He froze as soon as he felt his bruised knuckles brush against the material of Shane’s shirt. Fear that he had been about to touch a _demon_ mingled with remembered guilt over hitting him earlier. 

__Shane watched him closely, his mouth a thin, somber line._ _

__“What’s your real name?”_ _

__Ryan hadn’t even realized he was about to ask, but anything was better than the awkwardness of slowly drawing his hand away._ _

__“Shane is fine.”_ _

__A deep breath. “Not Nahash?”_ _

__Shane glanced away. “That’s more of a title-”_ _

__“Serpent.”_ _

__Shane actually did a double-take at that, eyes wide. Ryan fought the urge to duck his head. “Gibson called you that after we tried to interrogate Miller. I looked it up. Hebrew for ‘serpent.’” Finally, an emotion other than anger or fear started to filter through. Pure curiosity. It was enough to make him ask, “What did Pech call you? What did it mean?”_ _

__“Kulkulkan,” Shane slowly responded, his expression still surprised. “Feathered Serpent.”_ _

__Ryan squinted in thought. “Like the Aztec god?”_ _

__“Mayan, actually.”_ _

__He had to swallow back more fear, but the sudden need to know more helped. “And the blonde illegal demon guy? What’d he call you?”_ _

__“Collins? Uh,” Shane actually glanced away. Was he embarrassed? “Jiutian Xuannu. Dark Lady.”_ _

__It took Ryan a second, but he reminded himself that demons took whatever body they could, regardless of gender. Why would Shane be embarrassed by-_ _

__“Ninth century goddess of warfare and sexuality.”_ _

__“What,” Ryan said flatly._ _

__Shane smirked and winked, though there was a hint of red in his cheeks. “I was bored, thought I’d have some fun.”_ _

__“....In ninth century China.”_ _

_Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t freak out._

__“How fucking old are you?! I mean, I know the cannibal demon said you were one of the old ones, but what does that even mean? How old is old?”_ _

_Well, I guess that technically wasn’t freaking out._

__“You are inconveniently good at remembering details,” Shane said, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”_ _

__“Try me.”_ _

__Shane looked him in the eye and said, “I’ve been around since the dawn of time.”_ _

__For one terrifying moment, Ryan believed him. Then he made a strangled noise and started laughing so hard that it was nearly soundless. He bent over, clutching his stomach and feeling tears start at the corners of his eyes. He laughed until he needed to stop or pass out._ _

__A few deep, rasping breaths, then he finally managed to straighten. His cheeks hurt from how hard he was grinning. “Christ, I needed that. I nearly believed you, you fucker!”_ _

__Shane rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say that I’m old and leave it at that.”_ _

__The laughter had left Ryan in too good of a mood for that to make him as afraid of it probably should have. “So, seduction and violence. Are those the emotions you feed off of?”_ _

__There was a pause as they took in the fact that Ryan had actually had the balls to ask that. They both knew that one of the things Ryan feared most about demons was being fed on._ _

__“I’m surprised you picked up on that,” Shane said hesitantly. “I guess there was a time when those were the emotions I prefered.”_ _

__“Rebellious teenage phase?”_ _

__That got him a grin. “Something like that.”_ _

A surprisingly comfortable silence fell over them. Ryan was tempted to let it last. His mind was buzzing with too many revelations and questions and his body was sore and exhausted. And there was a sense that they _really_ should have been focusing on the cannibal demon and not Shane. 

__But there was one more, selfishly personal question that he had to ask._ _

__“So you were or...are an incubus?”_ _

__“Any demon can be an incubus.”_ _

__“Oh.” Ryan shook his head. That was information to think about for later. “Um. Do you… You’ve slept with quite a few people?”_ _

__Both of Shane’s eyebrows went so far up his head that it was almost comical. “Yes, Ryan, I’ve had sex before.”_ _

__A deep breath, a lurch of his stomach that made him feel like he was going to throw up. “With men?” He didn’t like how timid his voice sounded._ _

__Shane’s expression softened. In that moment, there was nothing demonic or supernatural about him. He just looked like Shane. “Yes.”_ _

__Ryan looked away, unable to hold his gaze anymore. “So, that night of the curse, you really weren’t interested in me.”_ _

__He could see Shane reach up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Ryan, no. That’s- No. It’s a hell of a lot more complicated than that.”_ _

__“Then explain it.”_ _

__Shane tapped his fingers on his thigh, drawing Ryan’s attention to how there was barely an inch between their legs. Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t be asking this right now._ _

__“Can a incorporeal leech have sexual urges?” There was something mocking in the question. Ryan slumped back, hearing an echo of his past slurs in the question. He felt shame curl through him._ _

__Shane must have seen his expression. “No, I didn't mean it like that. It’s an honest question. Demons don’t-” he cut himself off, then smiled strangely. “We don’t have a body. We don’t have any need for sex.”_ _

__Ryan furrowed his brows, his shame and embarrassment giving way to curiosity again. He had never had a chance to ask a demon questions. Had never really wanted to. But if Shane was willing to answer him, he wasn’t going to say no to the opportunity. “But I’ve seen demon porn, I know -” he choked on his own spit trying to drag his words back._ _

“ _Ryan_ ,” Shane said, his serious expression morphing into glee. “Demon porn? Really? How scandalous.” 

__“I’m going to kill you,” Ryan muttered into his hands. “No one will find the body.” He paused and looked up “Or uh. Damn it, that doesn’t make a very good threat any more, does it?”_ _

__“Was it the horns? It was the horns, wasn’t it?”_ _

__Ryan couldn’t help the way his eyes skittered to the top of Shane’s head. The man grinned, a teasing curve to his mouth that made him unfairly attractive. “Goddamnit, Shane.” He took a deep breath. “There’s too much porn and way too many incubi for me to think that demons can’t get turned on.”_ _

__The smile fell, but Shane did look more relaxed than he had earlier. “The host body can be turned on, yes.”_ _

__“Uh, what?”_ _

__“Sexual lust is not a natural feeling to demons,” Shane said, smoothing his fingertips down the length of his thigh. “But it is an easy emotion to feed off of. And to then take that emotion and let it affect the body. We learned pretty early on that most humans aren’t going to continue to produce lust if we can’t get our host body to respond properly.”_ _

__It took a moment for the information to sink in, for Ryan to get past how casually Shane was referring to ‘host bodies, then he hesitantly said, “So you have to feed to uh. Get it up.”_ _

__Shane snorted. “Essentially.”_ _

__“Oh.”_ _

__“Yeah, oh.”_ _

__“Wait.” Ryan felt an almost familiar fear travel in shivers down his spine. “Have you ever fed off me?”_ _

__There was a long silence, then Shane bit his lip, something Ryan had never seen him do. “Not intentionally.”_ _

__Ryan had to close his eyes for a second, just to fight down the instinctual terror. “So you have.”_ _

__Shane looked away. “The curse. You were so scared,” he confessed in a hushed tone. “It was everywhere. It was like dropping a man dying of thirst into a pool of water. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”_ _

__A faint memory of a too warm body holding him, of ‘I’m so sorry’ being repeated over and over again above his head._ _

__Ryan swallowed. Sighed shakily. “So that’s why you were acting so weird. Alright.”_ _

__“Alright?”_ _

__“Was that why you came onto me? Trying to give something back or something?”_ _

__He took Shane’s silence as an answer._ _

__“And you were hoping that you could, what? Get away with a quick blow job and hope I would just fall asleep or something? I’m a little insulted that you think I wouldn’t want to,” Ryan waved a hand in a weird little gesture. “Uh. Return the favor.”_ _

__“I was just going to say I’d already taken care of it,” Shane said, a bit sheepishly._ _

__Ryan hated to admit, even to himself, that that probably would have worked._ _

__“So when I kissed you two years ago,” Ryan said, fixing Shane with a hard stare. “And you turned me down. You let me think it was because you were straight. But it was actually because you’re a demon. And unless you admitted that, you’d never be able to perform.”_ _

__Shane looked away. “Maybe ‘never’ is a strong word, but...You’re more or less right.”_ _

__“You fucking idiot,” Ryan snapped, fond despite his sudden frustrated anger._ _

__That got him a confused, slow blink._ _

__“I love you, you dick,” he continued, trying not to think about the fact that he had never actually said it out loud before. “You could have just told me you weren’t into sex. I have a working hand, I don’t actually need sex. It would have been fine.”_ _

“Ryan, I can _feel_ when you’re turned on. It’s pretty often.” 

____Ryan made an exasperated noise. “I’m also angry a lot of the time, but I don’t act on it.” He thought about how his knuckles ached and the shocked, stricken expression on Shane’s face when he had hit him. “Well. Usually. I’m sorry.”_ _ _ _

____Shane waved that way. He looked like he was thinking hard about something. “Let’s say that I had told you that. And we dated. We moved in together. And then you found out I was a demon. Do you really think you could have handled it if we were even closer? It took you two days of no contact with me before you felt like you could be in my presence.”_ _ _ _

____“I don’t know,” Ryan admitted with a scowl. “I guess we’ll never find out, will we?”_ _ _ _

____“Ryan,” Shane said, suddenly turning towards him. “You’re still scared of me. You’re doing a good job of hiding it. But I know I represent your greatest fear. That is not the basis of a good relationship.”_ _ _ _

____With more bravado than he actually felt, Ryan brought his chin up and looked Shane straight in the eyes. “Then convince me to not be afraid of you.”_ _ _ _

____“Convince you?” Shane repeatedly slowly, a curious light to his eyes. “Tempt you, one might say?”_ _ _ _

____Ryan shivered even as he rolled his eyes. “Funny.” But then he took a deep breath. Nodded._ _ _ _

____There was a faint, subtle change of attitude that fell over Shane. His shoulders relaxed, his expression going gentle and open. His smile looked genuine, but there was a practiced quality to it. It was soft and not seductive in the slightest. There wasn’t anything sexual about the way he laid his hand, palm up on his thigh. An obvious invitation._ _ _ _

____An intimate invitation. It felt staged. An honest sentiment, but a rehearsed one._ _ _ _

____Ryan thought about the nature of seduction and temptation. Of serpents and forbidden knowledge. Of the hookers and escorts he had talked to in the course of his career and the knowledge that some johns wanted intimacy and a human connection more than they wanted sex. Of how a simple, warm touch could be harder to resist than a smoldering look._ _ _ _

____He thought about how old Shane must be. The number of bodies he’d have possessed and the number of partners he’d have had._ _ _ _

____It was surprisingly easy to place his hand in Shane’s._ _ _ _

____Their hands were mostly the same size, but Shane’s fingers were longer and thinner, fitting neatly in between Ryan’s. Shane’s palm was smooth, only a few calluses marking how often he practiced with his firearm. Ryan studied the picture their hands made, memorizing the contrast, the way Shane’s pale skin looked against his own tan fingers. It wasn’t an image he wanted to forget._ _ _ _

____Ryan glanced up to see that Shane was looking down at their hands as well, but his expression was distant, not entirely in the present._ _ _ _

____Somehow, some instinct told Ryan that he was now part of a script. That no matter his reaction, one extreme or the other, Shane would have a calculated reaction to it. Because he would have already seen it all before. Ryan could kiss him, could tell him to leave. Could demand sex or hit him again. Could probably even fall asleep on the couch, clutching onto his hand. And Shane would have an answer, a practiced response to most anything._ _ _ _

____Ryan had never liked being predictable._ _ _ _

____“Shane,” he said softly, deliberately quiet._ _ _ _

____There wasn’t an answer. Shane was doing the thing he did sometimes, where he was a million miles away in his own mind. Now Ryan wondered if he was actually just remembering things from his past._ _ _ _

____Not allowing his voice to waver, to betray his nerves or how odd it felt to shape the word in his mouth, Ryan said a little louder, “Nahash.”_ _ _ _

____“Hmm?”_ _ _ _

____Ryan smiled when Shane blinked and threw a confused look at him, even if it didn’t really feel like something to be amused by. “I want to see you.”_ _ _ _

____Again, judging by the way Shane nodded and almost comically shut his eyes, this was also part of a script, just a different one than had been expected. But Ryan had a plan._ _ _ _

____Something tapped on the back of his hand and Ryan looked down to see black claws tipping Shane’s fingers. The tips scratched lightly against his skin. He held back a shiver at the feeling, but couldn’t disguise the way he started to shake when he looked up into eyes he had never seen before._ _ _ _

Black sclera where white should have been. Black slit pupils and bright, poisonous green irises. It was an oddly beautiful, frankly _terrifying_ look. 

____“What, no horns?” he managed to croak, unable to look away as the skin around those eyes crinkled, a familiar expression to frame such striking, strange features._ _ _ _

____Shane laughed, the sound intimate and teasing. “I should have guessed. But I don’t think you could handle that right now.”_ _ _ _

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan _made_ himself say. He could follow a cue when he heard it. “This isn’t quite what I meant, though.” 

____At the questioning look he received, he carefully squeezed Shane’s hand and let go. He tried not to think about the drag of claws across his skin._ _ _ _

____“Ryan?”_ _ _ _

“I said I wanted to see _you_ ,” Ryan said with a nervous smile. He leaned back on the couch so he could pull his glasses case out of his pocket. 

____Shane made a surprised noise._ _ _ _

____He nearly dropped the glasses as he put them on, but Ryan ignored how his fingers shook. “You’ve been hiding behind a human aura for years, haven’t you?”_ _ _ _

____A faint, wide-eyed nod. The warm colors that he could see through the glasses shifted around Shane, an indication of some strong emotion._ _ _ _

____Ryan got the feeling they were completely off-script now._ _ _ _

____Good. He wanted to be memorable._ _ _ _

____“Let me see you.”_ _ _ _

____The demonic features melted away, leaving Ryan to stare at dark brown eyes. “Ryan, you don’t have to do that. I know you don’t really uh, like seeing demons.” Shane brought his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, an unconscious gesture. He managed a small, self-deprecating smile. “I think you once called them a stain on the world.”_ _ _ _

“Maybe,” Ryan said, then grimaced and forced himself to admit his shame out loud. “Yes, alright? But maybe I should give them- _you_ a chance.” He let out a quiet, strained laugh. “Come on, man, don’t make me ask again.” 

____A long moment passed before Shane quietly asked, with trembling hope in the words, “Are you sure?”_ _ _ _

____Ryan wasn’t sure. His stomach was clenching so hard in nervous anticipation that he was mildly afraid he was going to throw up on his coffee table. He nodded anyways._ _ _ _

____Shane let out a shaking breath. “I haven’t left this body since I possessed it. I’m so out of practice that I might stray too far. If I stop breathing, don’t worry.”_ _ _ _

____Wait, that wasn’t what-_ _ _ _

____The warm human aura that Ryan was so very familiar with shifted and swirled. And right in front of him, something faded into view. A scintillating darkness that weaved around Shane’s body, an oil slick that instinctually made Ryan’s lip curl in disgust._ _ _ _

____Shane’s eyes were unfocused, his face slack, but he still reacted immediately. “I’m sorry,” he whispered woodenly._ _ _ _

____The darkness wavered, then started to retreat back into the aura and Ryan swore at himself. How could he have forgotten that Shane would have felt that moment of horrified aversion?_ _ _ _

____“Wait,” he gasped, flinging his hand out._ _ _ _

____He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do or what he expected to happen._ _ _ _

____His fingers plunged into glittering, living shadow. They both froze._ _ _ _

____If he hadn’t been wearing the glasses, he might not have noticed anything. There wasn’t any real sensation against his skin. But if he concentrated, if he narrowed his eyes and focused, he could just barely feel warmth._ _ _ _

____Weird. He would have assumed demons would be cold._ _ _ _

____Sure that his heart was about to beat out of his chest, Ryan lightly wriggled his fingers. The darkness wrapped around them rippled, glimmering and throwing off dark rainbows._ _ _ _

____Shane’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Tickles.”_ _ _ _

“Oh my God,” Ryan said on a breath, swallowing down a mix of nausea and sick, awed fascination. He was touching a demon. Not a host, not the poor body that became a sock puppet, but an actual _demon_. 

____Darkness swirled and flowed, edging out of the protection of the aura. Closer to him. Ryan had to stiffen his spine to keep from flinching away as, for one brief, terrifying moment, he imagined something out of a horror movie. But his trust that Shane had no interest in trying to possess him kept him still._ _ _ _

____He forced himself to actually look at what he was seeing. To stop reacting and to appreciate what was happening. There couldn’t be many people that could say they had touched a demon._ _ _ _

____“Beautiful,” Ryan choked out. It was the truth, even if he had to dig his free hand into his thigh to keep from bolting._ _ _ _

The shadow that Ryan was just beginning to realize was _Shane_ crept up his fingers and curled around his wrist. 

____He trembled. He could almost feel the weight that he knew wasn’t actually there._ _ _ _

____“Your soul is beautiful,” Shane said, the robotic way he was murmuring making the phrase somehow worse._ _ _ _

____“Now it’s getting creepy,” Ryan replied, ignoring the raspy way his voice was breaking and the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes._ _ _ _

He needed to do this. Not for Shane, but for himself. He needed to prove that he wasn’t afraid of the man- _being_ he loved. 

____“Creepy would be,” a thin breath. “Telling you that your fear is like waving a steak,” another breath. “In front of a starving man.”_ _ _ _

____“Fuck off, Shane,” Ryan said, curling his fingers together, catching darkness in his palm for one brief moment. “Come back. Please.”_ _ _ _

____The darkness tightened once around his wrist, a faint suggestion of pressure, then faded back into the warm human aura. Shane took a great shuddering breath, gave a full-body twitch, then grinned so wide at Ryan that it looked painful. He reached out and gently took the glasses off Ryan’s face._ _ _ _

____“Thank you, Ryan,” Shane said, his voice shaking with gratitude and something resembling reverence. “No one has seen me in decades. Thank you.”_ _ _ _

____Ryan let himself be pulled forward. Let Shane kiss his forehead and let him embrace him. It was an awkward position, even after Ryan convinced himself to rest his hands on Shane’s sides. The angle stretched his back uncomfortably and his holster dug into his armpit. But he didn’t move._ _ _ _

____He was proud of himself for not bolting and giving in to his fear._ _ _ _

____He was terrified that he had just condemned his soul, even if he wasn’t religious._ _ _ _

____Shane smelled like fire and, faintly, of sulfur. Ryan hated that it was a scent that was beginning to comfort him. He didn’t fall into a deep sleep, but he did drift into a kind of doze, lulled by the warmth of the body under him. For a few wonderful minutes, his thoughts fell silent._ _ _ _

____God, he was tired._ _ _ _

____His fingers brushed Shane’s gun and he idly wondered at the humor in a demon having a firearm._ _ _ _

____That was the last coherent thought he had before he fell into a kind of waking dream, filled with flashes of images and feelings.____

Oil dripping against gravity, falling up his arms and neck and filling his mouth. 

____The taste of ash and sulfur._ _ _ _

____Great looping coils wrapping around his chest until he couldn’t breathe._ _ _ _

____The slide of snakeskin against his wrist._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the interest and lovely comments! And quite a few questions that I can't answer yet :P
> 
> Next update might be a bit slower, but I'll do what I can!
> 
> Lovely art by [soft-cryptids](http://mephsation.tumblr.com/post/177691293436/more-astounding-art-by-soft-cryptids-im-pretty) for the beginning scene!


	7. Chapter 7

The scratch of nails through his hair drew Ryan from his light doze. It was the perfect pressure across his scalp, causing tingles down his neck. He turned his head, his cheek and ear pressing into Shane’s chest. A shirt button dug into his cheekbone, but it wasn’t immediately uncomfortable.

His mouth tasted faintly of rotten eggs. The smell felt like it was lodged deep in the back of his throat. It wasn't very pleasant. 

Somehow, it was better to think of that than the images still crowding his mind.

“Why sulfur?” he asked, words muffled and thick. 

The nails on his head paused, then continued their pattern of scratching. Shane shrugged, the movement shifting him slightly. “Because you expect it.”

Ryan frowned in confusion. “What? 

“Demons are shaped by subconscious expectations more than we really want to admit “

There was a second where Ryan thought that over, then he made a face. “So Wendy only smelled fire on you because she didn't expect you to be a demon?”

“Yeah.”

“That's... really stupid.”

Shane snorted, his fingers still idly carding through Ryan's hair. It probably shouldn't have felt as good as it did. “Right? It's incredibly frustrating to be shaped by similes and _metaphors_. “

As much as Ryan wanted to ask all of the questions that came to his mind, a lingering sense of responsibility made him push his thoughts aside. That, and the thought of those nails trailing across his scalp turning into sharp claws made him gather himself to pull away from Shane. 

There was a moment of resistance, a quiet, unhappy noise from Shane as he tightened his arm around Ryan. It was the kind of reaction he would have expected from a long-term lover, not a platonic friend. As if Shane found comfort in holding him and didn’t want to let go yet. Just how many times would he be surprised by a demon’s ability to mimic such a nuanced human reaction? 

He was tempted to sink back down, to accept the warm embrace and ignore their jobs. But guilt over being at his apartment while on the clock was starting to eat at him. Sure, he had swung by his place once or twice in the middle of a shift, but that had always been for a few minutes. Usually just to pick something up. Ryan had never skipped out on work like this before. He was thankful that, in his anger, he had automatically taken his personal car home, instead of an unmarked vehicle. At least there wouldn’t be any kind of recording of where he had taken the two of them. 

It was far past the time where he needed to get up and remember that he was an adult with career. And his back was seriously killing him, which was another good reason to sit up. Next time, he was taking off his holster.

It took him a second to get over the fact that he had just assumed there would be a next time. 

Not quite able to meet Shane’s eyes, Ryan stretched to relieve some of the soreness in his muscles, then stood up as casually as he could. “We should probably head back to the station and give everyone the information you were able to get out of your illegal demon friends.” His voice was scratchy from sleep. How long had he dozed for?

Shane’s hand fell just above his hip, gently stopping him from walking away. Ryan turned to him, one eyebrow raised. He looked soft, a faint, wondering look in his sleepy eyes that made something twist in Ryan’s chest. “I know humans don’t like seeing us as we are. So again, thank you for-” He hesitated. Smiled. “Thank you for even thinking to ask. For realizing.”

For some fucked up reason, Ryan could feel an actual blush warming his cheeks. It made his next words too forthright. “Honestly, I’m trying not to think about the fact that I touched a -an extra-dimensional being? A spirit? Whatever, I’m a little freaked out.”

Rather than be offended, Shane just smiled wickedly and winked. “You got all up ins, Bergara. It was kind of kinky.”

Ryan’s jaw dropped and then he sputtered. He _knew_ Shane was screwing with him, but it didn’t stop the embarrassment. “Fuck off, Shane, no it wasn’t.”

“It was. Little bit.”

“You’re a dick. If you’re done? Can we go back to work now? Before Williams tracks us down himself and we get yelled at for taking a nap while still on the clock. We need to get the info on our suspect out to the others.”

The teasing expression on Shane’s face slowly dropped into something serious. “I don’t think we should involve anyone else,” he said. “I don’t even want you involved.”

Ryan gave him an incredulous look. “After what just happened? There’s no way the Captain will let us be the only ones on it. He’s going to pull everyone for this case.”

Shane glanced away. He nodded. “You’re right.”

_He’s hiding something._

Well, obviously Shane was hiding something. Maybe Ryan knew his biggest secret now, but all that had done was open the door for so many more. He wasn’t naive enough to think that Shane had told him everything. 

But he was tired of revelations. Tired of fear, tired of second-guessing himself and Shane. Tired of being _tired_. So he let Shane walk away without questioning him. There would be time for that later.

They were quietly getting into the car when Ryan blurted, “Was it actually kinky?”

Shane laughed at him the entire trip back.

\-----------------------

 

The situation they walked into at the station was tense. The room was muted, the few people talking in little huddles doing so in quiet murmurs, their gazes darting around. Even if the double doors hadn’t been shattered, it would have been obvious in one glance that something had happened. 

Neither Williams nor Ruggirello were in the room. After glancing at his watch, Ryan tried to tell himself they were gone because it was already six. 

Most of the wreckage had been cleared away, the pieces of the monitor and desk removed and probably sitting in the evidence locker. But the gaping hole in the layout of the desks was almost as eye-catching as the literal hole in the wall. Someone had tried to tack a plastic sheet over the missing drywall, but it was already sagging and threatening to fall. 

_Oh yeah. Shane did that._

Ryan ignored the shiver of remembered fear in order to send Shane a sardonic look. “Dramatic, much?” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for his partner to hear him. 

Shane didn’t physically react, but there was a trace of amusement in his voice when he said, “I’m going to write up that report. If I can get it done soon, it’ll be ready for those on the next shift.”

He lightly brushed his hand across the small of Ryan’s back, just enough pressure to be felt, then walked towards his desk. 

Ryan froze for a moment, then shook his head and made his way towards his own desk, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. He knew there would be questions about what had happened, but he could barely remember his own lies. He wasn’t in the mood for fabricating even more. 

He wasn’t surprised to see a department-wide email from Captain Williams commanding everyone to track down their demon contacts, legal or otherwise, and ask questions about the possible identity of who had attacked their headquarters. Luckily for Ryan, he really only knew Gibson. 

_And Shane._

Ryan nearly broke his pen from how hard he gripped it at the thought. 

Despite what Williams wanted, they couldn’t devote the entirety of their manpower to a single incident, even if it had taken place within their own headquarters. Despite the hush of the room, most of the officers were going about their regular routine. Or as regular as it could be. Including Ryan, as he filled out paperwork that had a deadline of two weeks ago. So he didn’t really pay attention when someone brought in two men in handcuffs after dusk, beyond noting that one of them had been turned a bright green. Somebody had pissed off a fae. 

He did notice when Gibson came in a half hour later, the tall demon going through the usual song and dance of getting his client out on bail. His client turned out to be the man who had been hexed, which brought some amusement to Ryan. 

Like always happened when a known demon was in the room, Ryan was constantly aware of Gibson’s exact location, half of his mind focused more on the demon than the actual work in front of him. It had become a habit ever since he had graduated from college and first started to encounter demons on a semi-regular basis. 

He tried not to think about the fact that he had actually been interacting with a certain demon on a _daily_ basis. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan watched Gibson finish talking to his client, then purposely walk straight towards him. He gritted his teeth and kept his face towards his computer. 

“Bergara, it’s such a disappointing pleasure to see you survived today’s incident unscathed.”

Ryan had meant to ignore Gibson, but he found himself turning in his seat just to give the demon a confused look. “What the fuck does that even mean, Gibson?”

“You, a measly human, managed to stay alive during an attack from a high level demon,” Gibson said, his tone making it clear what a feat that was. “I’m surprised. And surprisingly pleased.”

_God, what an ass._

“And how exactly do you know about the attack?”

“Oh, I hope you weren’t expecting that such fascinating news wouldn’t have already made the rounds amongst certain circles? I almost wish to congratulate whoever had the audacity to attack this place.”

“So you don’t know who did it?” Ryan asked, a knee-jerk response. He didn’t actually expect Gibson to answer. 

It wasn’t particularly surprising when the demon smiled smugly, a rather emotive expression for him. “I plead the fifth,” he said obnoxiously.

Knowing that Gibson was just fucking with him, Ryan scowled. “Fucking lee-” Ryan thought of Shane, of the conversations they’d had not two hours ago, and he stumbled over his usual slur. “-lawyer,” he finished lamely. 

Gibson raised his eyebrows, obviously surprised that Ryan hadn’t insulted him. Then he glanced up behind Ryan and his small smile fell. He straightened up from the casual lean he had adopted earlier. 

“Harassing an officer, Gibson?” Shane asked from above Ryan, his voice deeper than usual. It verged on intimidating. A possessive hand fell on Ryan’s shoulder, making him jump. Shane’s fingers squeezed, which did nothing to comfort him. “After your client has already left?”

For some reason, Gibson was watching Ryan closely when he said, “I was merely discussing today’s news, Madej. Surely there’s nothing wrong with that? It is, as they say, a free country.”

Ryan could feel Shane lean forward, his presence warm against his back. “And I’m free to tell you to leave.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ryan muttered to himself, then said loudly, “I’m not a piece of meat between two dogs. Gibson, your client is gone, you don’t have any reason to be here. Shane, go back to your desk.”

He could feel how it was now both of them were staring at him, but he pushed down his fear at being under the attention of two different demons. 

Shane’s hand lingered on Ryan’s shoulder, but he did step back. Gibson’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he murmured. His mouth curled into something mean as he said to Shane. “Not only does he know, he also holds the leash. How pathetic.”

It took Ryan a second to figure out what he meant. 

“Fuck off, leech,” he spat, finally rising to his feet. “Get out of here before I come up with a reason to arrest you.”

Gibson fucking _chortled_. Ryan had never heard someone make a noise that so perfectly encapsulated the word. “Ah, there’s the righteous anger. I was afraid recent revelations would have broken your spirit. How enticing that you’re still as prejudiced as you ever were.”

Ryan refused to flinch, but his anger drained away to be replaced by shame. 

With a quaint little bow that looked incongruently archaic coming from a demon wearing such a modern suit, Gibson took his exit with a mocking, “Until next time, Bergara. _Madej_.”

Frowning, Ryan turned to ask Shane just how many other demons knew who he was, but froze when he saw how utterly still Shane was. There was a faint sense of _something_ in the air, a growing dread, some kind of sixth sense telling Ryan that he needed to get out and get out now. 

He ignored his instincts and jabbed Shane in the ribs.

Shane didn’t react at first, then he blinked and shook his head. He sent Ryan a sheepish look. “Sorry,” he said quietly. 

“Dude, what the fuck is up with you?” Ryan muttered, risking a quick look around them. Fortunately, no one seemed to have been paying attention. Ryan’s fights with Gibson had become such a common occurrence that no one bothered to watch. It said something about how often Gibson showed up that a demon being in the building after a demon attack wasn’t a cause for concern. “Four years, you’ve never-” his glanced around the room again and lowered his voice even further. “-you’ve never been this obvious. If you had been, I’d have figured it out a long time ago.”

“Ask me later,” Shane said after a moment, finally seeming to realize how he was acting in public. 

“I will. And I’m also going to yell at you for that little, alpha male, posturing bullshit display that just happened.”

Shane raised one eyebrow. “The irony of that coming from _you_ is astounding.”

“Right?” Ryan said, mouth quirking into a small, reluctant smile. “That’s how you know how bad it was.”

There was a moment of silence while they smiled at each other, then Shane started to say, “Ryan-”

“Bergara.”

Ryan startled, then turned to glare at Yang. “For fuck’s sake, Eugene, wear a bell.”

Yang smirked, but there was something off about the expression. “I need to talk to you.” He pointedly didn’t look at Shane when he said, “Alone.”

After exchanging a glance with Shane, Ryan shrugged and nodded towards the breakroom. “Okay, I could use more ‘coffee’ if I’m going to stay awake. No one’s in there right now.”

Some basic small talk passed between the two of them as Ryan poured himself a mug of the dark sludge masquerading as coffee. Finally, while watching on in bemused horror as Ryan downed half of the cup in one go, Yang said what was on his mind. 

“Madej isn’t fae.”

Ryan paused mid-swallow and wide-eyed, knowing he probably looked like a complete idiot, but sudden panic made it hard to care. Fuck, did Yang know? Was he supposed to lie or just agree or flee and expect Shane to handle himself? Damn it, they should have discussed this, he didn’t know what to do.

_Calm down, hear him out._

He forced himself to swallow and nod as casually as he could. 

Yang let out a thin, unneeded exhale. Raised his voice slightly and said, as if he was continuing a different conversation, “Saw you were getting pretty friendly with Gibson.”

It sounded like an abrupt topic change, but Ryan felt the hair on the back of his neck raise in sheer alarm. He cursed vampiric hearing, knowing that his fast heartbeat was no doubt giving away his nerves. “Wouldn’t exactly call it ‘friendly’”

“Yeah,” Yang said, almost nonsensically. Then he seemed to brace himself. “You shouldn’t trust demons. They’re dangerous.” He couldn’t seem to meet Ryan’s eyes when he continued, “Especially the illegal ones.”

_Shit._

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Yang knew. 

Ryan took another sip of coffee to give himself a minute, his mind racing for a response. The smart thing to do would have been to give a vague, noncommittal agreement. But lingering shame from Gibson calling him prejudiced and a sense of defensiveness welled up in him. “I think most illegal demons are just trying to go about their lives.”

“It’s not _their_ lives.”

The sad thing was, Ryan didn’t even disagree. But the memory of faint warmth wrapping around his wrist and fingers made him say, “Most hosts are in such a permanent coma that they’d be dead anyways.”

Yang’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what they’ve told you?”

“I-well, yes-” Ryan stuttered over his words. 

“Bergara. Ryan,” Yang said, leaning forward. “Demons are _dangerous_. They torture, they rape, they kill, all just to feed. You know that. We all know that. Especially the illegal ones.”

It was incredibly frustrating that two weeks ago, Ryan would have been nodding along with him. But the fact that Yang was trying to imply those things about _Shane_ was maddening. “Not all of them do.”

Yang sighed. It was a world-weary, heavy noise. “I get it. I really do. But you’re a human dealing with things far beyond your knowledge or ability. You won’t survive if you keep getting tangled up with them.”

“I would think that a vampire would know better than to accuse another species with baseless rumors and stereotypes,” Ryan snapped, forgetting for a moment that he shouldn’t be antagonizing a person that could easily view him as nothing but a walking blood bag. 

“It’s _because_ I’m a vampire that I’m saying this,” Yang said, unperturbed. “Hell, if Ma-If Gibson was a vampire, I’d be saying the exact same thing. Don’t get involved. I was lucky. I lived, more or less. You’ll just die.”

Ryan stared, torn between fear and anger. He couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t be pure yelling. 

Sensing that he wasn’t going to respond, Yang sighed and clapped him on the shoulder. As he was starting to walk away, Ryan said, “You won’t tell anyone?” He meant to say it as an order. It came out a question. 

Yang didn’t turn back, but he did pause. After a moment, he nodded once. 

Shane found Ryan a few minutes later, still staring at nothing and clutching at a half-full mug of tepid coffee. 

“Hey, little guy,” Shane said cautiously. Normally, Ryan would have glared, but he still felt numb. “What’d Yang want?”

“He knows.”

Instantly, Ryan had a sudden, terrifying thought. Had he just condemned Yang? Should he have stayed quiet and not revealed that somebody knew about Shane? Yang wasn’t wrong, there was a small but significant number of homicides perpetrated yearly by illegal demons. And it wasn’t unheard of for even the legal ones to get arrested for various assault charges. 

But that was being reactionary and alarmist, right? The vast majority of crime was still committed by humans and Ryan wasn’t terrified of his own species. And he _knew_ his partner. Shane would never kill someone. 

_Would Nahash?_

It was comforting that Shane merely frowned, then shrugged. “I doubt he’ll tell anyone. No one would believe him.”

Ryan nodded, almost desperate to downplay the danger Shane might be in. 

As if he had already dismissed Yang, Shane stepped closer and leaned against the counter, the movement bringing him into Ryan’s space. There was nothing casual about the display. “So, uh, we’re off in fifteen. You want to come over to my place?”

He sounded nervous and hopeful, his brown eyes soft as he kept darting glances at Ryan then jerking his gaze away. It was the perfect picture of someone asking their crush out on a date. 

God, Shane was good at that. No wonder no one had pinged him for a demon. 

Ryan nearly agreed without thought. But despite himself, Yang’s warning still rang in his ears. 

“I can’t,” he said, blurting out the first shitty excuse that he thought of, “I’d just fall asleep, and contacts, you know, don’t want to wake up with those glued to my eyeballs.”

Shane didn’t exactly deflate, but his mouth did curl down in a disappointed slant. He sighed. “I understand.”

Ryan got the feeling Shane understood all too well, so to take away the sting of the rejection, he sat the mug down on the counter and turned towards Shane. He reached up to gently cup the side of the man’s neck. He almost thought of going in for a kiss, since he was under the impression that Shane wouldn't stop him. But it felt oddly like that would be taking advantage, so he merely brushed his thumb down warm skin. 

Besides, they were still at work. No one needed to see any more than what was already going on. 

“Ask me again tomorrow,” he said, a soft promise in his words. “I’ll come over then.”

Shane gave him a small, genuine smile. “I’ll get an engraved invitation, just for you.”

Ryan snorted. “Please don’t, I know you actually would.”

“Gold leaf, embossed letters. _Comic Sans_.”

“What the fuck, ew.”

 

\---------------------------

 

For the first time in too many days, Ryan technically slept for eight hours. They just weren’t very restful hours. By the time he made it into work, he was still trying to push away the echoes of disturbingly compelling images. Images that he wanted desperately to ignore. 

Pooling oil. Fire with substance, pressing against him, entwining around him. Ryan still felt it all as clearly as he had when lying in bed.

He wasn’t very thrilled with his subconscious. Yes, he got it, Shane was a demon. He didn’t need to keep dreaming about it. 

“Earth to Ryan.”

He started, lifting his head from his hand. Had he been falling asleep? “Christ. Whatever happened to not ambushing your coworkers?”

"You sleep alright?"

“I’m fine," he said, waving the question away. "It's been a crazy few days. I'd be more worried if I did sleep well, you know?"

"Gonna catch up to you. One day here soon you'll be merrily filling out a form and then woop" Shane swept a palm downward for emphasis. "Light's out Bergara."

"Merrily?"

Shrugging, Shane smiled. "Merrily. Well, I was just waiting to make sure you made it into work. Don’t fall asleep while I’m gone.” He spun on his heel and started to walk away.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Ryan stumbled to his feet, too groggy to do more than frown half-heartedly in confusion as he reached out to grab his partner’s arm. 

Shane paused, even though there was no way Ryan’s weak grasp could have stopped him. “Meeting with those banshees. I was able to get it moved, but I need to leave now.”

Ryan groaned, thinking longingly of sitting back down and not so longingly of the paperwork he really was behind on. “We’re getting coffee on the way or I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

There was an awkward pause, then Shane did a weird little rocking motion on his heels, like he was going to try and dodge around Ryan. “Uh, I was thinking I would go by myself?”

“We’re not having this discussion again,” Ryan said, walking around him and striding towards the side parking lot. “You’re driving and we’re getting an unmarked vehicle out of the motor pool because I don’t trust you to drive my car.”

“Ryan-”

Ryan ignored him and kept walking away. 

“Did I mention the banshees? Because there will be banshees.”

After having thought about it the night before, Ryan still wasn’t sure what banshees would have to do with the case. Not unless the direct actions of the cannibal demon had resulted in the death of one of his hosts, and the host was a part of a family that had a banshee attacked. But if Shane needed to speak to them, he wasn’t going to do it alone. 

"You have the self-preservation instincts of a lemming," Shane muttered from behind him.

"That whole lemming thing is bullshit," Ryan said while signing out a car, "Total urban legend."

"Yes Ryan, but they're hardly known for being wily, crafty apex predators, either."

"Whatever, just forget the lemmings, alright? If you're trying to convince me to stay, it’s not working.”

Shane rolled his eyes, then sighed. Ryan took it for the grudging acceptance that it was. 

They had reached the car when Ryan paused long enough to say, "This isn’t going to be a fun time, is it?"

"What, an afternoon among the trees? It's sunny, clear, just a beautiful day. Get away from the bustle of the city, clear the mind, get some clean air. It'll be simply charming."

"I'll pack the picnic basket," Ryan said wryly. "Make a trip of it."

The banshees rather famously lived in the Angeles National Forest, one of two species allowed to hold private residences in National Forests. The other was dryads, which made more sense to Ryan than banshees. It would take well over an hour to reach the property they had claimed, so Ryan pulled out his phone as they merged into traffic, intent on following up on a few loose ends from some of the smaller cases he was working on. 

His thumb hovered over the call button, but he sat his phone down on his lap without pressing it. 

“Why do you let me walk all over you?”

Shane glanced at him. “Wow, thanks. I really feel like my independence and contribution to this partnership is appreciated.”

“No, I mean-” Ryan looked at the dash cam and the array of screens and electronics in front of them and closed his mouth. They were in unmarked car that didn’t have nearly the same amount of equipment that a patrol car would have, but at the very least, the dash cam would be picking up their conversation. He turned his head towards the window, gathered his will and focused his mental attention on only the camera, then muttered three short, sharp syllables. 

There was an audible, thin whine and click. 

“Did you seriously just hex the camera?” Shane asked, looking away from the road long enough to stare at him. “I’m impressed and shocked. _Shocked_.”

Ryan grinned, a little thrill of pride mixing with the guilt that came from knowing that what he had just done was technically illegal. Tampering with recording equipment could get him in trouble, but it wasn’t likely anyone would think to check. And he wasn’t going to have a conversation about Shane being an illegal demon in front of a camera. “Lim taught it to me. It’s come in handy once or twice.”

The fact that he had been able to learn a fae hex, even an easy one, was something he was pretty proud of, actually. 

“ _Lim_?” Shane repeated, both eyebrows up in surprise. “Sweet, law-abiding, wholesome Lim?”

Ryan nodded, amused. 

“Damn. Wonder what he’s getting up to with Ilnyckyj.”

“Shane, no,” Ryan admonished, laughing a little. “The hex only lasts for about twenty minutes and I didn’t do it to gossip about coworkers.”

His response was a ‘get on with it’ gesture.’

“You’re a pretty powerful demon,” Ryan stated, pausing to see if Shane would answer that, but his partner kept silent. God, it was still weird to think that Shane wasn’t human. “You could do whatever the hell you wanted. So why do you let me get away with, well, everything?”

“Maybe I like you.”

Fuck, that shouldn’t have made him feel as pleased as it did. But it was also a cop out. “I’m serious, Shane. It’s obvious you didn’t want me to come with you to meet with your demon friends and you didn’t want me with you today, either. You could have easily stopped me. Why didn't you?”

Shane glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Is this about what Gibson said yesterday?”

“No,” Ryan said automatically. Then he frowned and admitted, “Not entirely. Maybe a little.”

“So you’ve been thinking about me on a leash. You dirty boy.”

“ _Shane_.”

Shane grinned for a second, but the expression fell away. He shrugged. “That’s not who Shane Madej is.”

Ryan blinked. “What?”

“Despite what you might think, I tried my best to follow the personality that this body remembered. Yeah, a lot of what you see is _me_ , filtered into the interpretation of what I would be if I was human, but it’s also influenced by what was already here.” Shane sighed, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not sure how exactly to describe it. Shane would follow his friend’s lead, even if he disagreed with them. So that’s what I do.”

There was something disconcerting about the entire concept. As if- “Are you saying this is all just acting?” Ryan asked incredulously. 

Shane snorted. “No. Obviously. If it was all an act, do you really think I’d put up with you?”

It was relief more than annoyance that made Ryan smack Shane’s elbow. “Dick.” He ignored all of the unimportant questions crowding his brain and focused on the ones pertaining to the cannibal demon. “This trip does have something to do our friendly cannibal, right?”

“Yes, Ryan,” Shane said, sounding exasperated. Good. He deserved it. 

“Then give me some facts that you can’t tell the others. It’s probably safe to say that you know the most demons out of everyone at the PIU?”

Shane nodded after a moment. “Not as many as Lucifer, but yeah. And I should say I know _of_ them, not that I really know them. I’ve been staying pretty hidden for quite some time.” 

God. There was a couple of concepts there that Ryan didn’t really want to think about. What would Shane consider ‘quite some time’? And Lucifer. The fact that Lucifer apparently respected Shane was a tiny bit terrifying. “Who do you know that would be powerful enough to pull off this ritual? And that much body hopping?”

“Not many,” Shane said with a frown. “All of them seem unlikely. This is the kind of bold, dramatic thing that most demons drawn to Earth don’t want to do.”

“I wonder if I could use all of this as an excuse to bring Gibson in for questioning,” Ryan said absently, staring at the window as they passed into the boundary of the National Forest. They were still too far the below the treeline to see any trees, but the surrounding area was already a sea of scraggly underbrush, broken rocks, and dry dirt. 

“Nah, he’s not that powerful. He couldn’t hop bodies that easily. He’s truthfully barely above you on the Hickam scale.”

“Thanks for that. You were the one that said the ritual was to give a demon another’s power. That’s the entire point of all of this, right?” Ryan thought of the conversation he had witnessed between Shane and Collins, and added, “And wasn’t the first suspected victim a really weak demon?”

Ryan didn’t really believe that Gibson was their cannibal demon, he was just idly talking out scenarios, but something pricked at the back of his mind. Something that he had noticed about the poor girl who had been the host for the cannibal during the attack on the station. 

The way she had said his name had been familiar. 

And there was only two demons that Ryan knew well enough to be familiar with their speech patterns. 

“Shane?” he asked, voice a little too high-pitched for something that should have been a hypothetical. “Could Gibson be our suspect?”

“I doubt it,” Shane replied without hesitation. “He’s pretty loyal to Lucifer. And Lucifer has made it clear that she doesn’t tolerate actions that will bring harsher laws against us. If this guy is willing to attack in broad daylight, he no longer cares about staying under the radar.”

There was a feeling, a certainty born from knowing him for so long that told Ryan Shane was avoiding telling him something. The way he had phrased his statement, the careful way he had stressed the attack. 

But Ryan was too distracted to give it much thought, most of his attention on the idea of Gibson. He wanted to believe that Shane would know better, but Ryan’s gut instincts were clamoring that he was on the right trail. 

“How long have you known Gibson?”

“Awhile,” Shane drawled, making it clear it was an understatement.

Ryan refused to give him the satisfaction of asking what ‘awhile’ meant, focusing instead on the problem at hand. “And it’s impossible that he could have changed? Maybe decided he was fed up with being weak? Or are you going to tell me that jockeys-” _Fuck’s sake, stop that_. “- _demons_ don’t ever change their personality?”

Shane opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of what he was going to say. His brow furrowed. “We live too long to remain completely static. I’m not the person I was when I was first, uh, born.”

The hesitation and the way he said ‘born’ was definitely going on the list of questions that Ryan may have started. 

“So he could have changed. Don’t forget, it was after we interviewed that fae that he apparently recognized you. And after that, our station was attacked. The cannibal was definitely going after you. Think about it. Gibson finds out you’re Nahash,” Ryan didn’t stumble over the name, but the shape of it still felt odd in his mouth. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it. “And only a few days later, he attacks. If each kill makes him stronger, you might have been the perfect escalation. And he finds an excuse to come back later in his regular host body to see how we’re reacting, which we know is a common criminal mistake.”

“That’s circumstantial evidence at best,” Shane said slowly. Then he huffed softly, hitting his thumb against the steering wheel in a sharp tap-tap of frustration. “Fuck. I’m going to have to talk to Lucifer about him.”

“I like him as a suspect.”

“Of course you do.”

“Not just because I hate him.”

Shane glanced at him just to give him a disbelieving look. 

The dash cam clicked, the tiny lights blinking on underneath it. Their time was up. Ryan was a little surprised the hex had lasted as long as it had. They fell silent and Ryan took the opportunity to gaze out the window, taking in the scenery. As galling as it was to have to halt their discussion in the middle of something important, it wasn’t often that he was able to appreciate nature like this. 

Scrubby brush was slowly giving way to tall, scraggly pine trees interspersed with the occasional dark green fir. He had always been disappointed that they didn’t really look like the Christmas variety, but it was an interesting change from palm trees. 

The sound of the road under the tires changed as the smooth pavement became old and gritty, barely a step above gravel. Shane turned onto a small lane that didn’t have a sign, just a pole with a driveway reflector stuck in the ground. All Ryan could see was overgrown, dry trees. 

“Do you actually know where you’re going?”

“No,” Shane said, an absent, teasing quirk to his lips. “I’ve actually been lost this whole time, I just didn’t want to say anything.”

Ryan sighed, holding back a smile.

“Keep an eye out, there’s bears in these woods.”

“Fuck off, no there’s not,” Ryan said automatically, though it was more hopeful than anything else. He did not want to deal with a bear right now.

Shane snorted and said in a low voice that hopefully wouldn’t be picked up by the camera. “Nice little jolt of fear, there. There really are bears here, but I’ll protect you from Smokey.”

Ryan scowled and refused to respond. 

Well, until Shane started saying ‘demons and banshees and bears, oh my!’ under his breath. 

The rest of the drive past in friendly squabbling, the kind that made time skip in a too fast blur. Ryan was honestly surprised when Shane drove into a large, sunlit clearing and parked in front of a set of buildings. The center building was a house that wouldn’t have looked out of place amongst the mansions in Beverly Hills. It stuck out like a sore thumb next to the log cabins and rustic outbuildings that surrounded it. 

“Holy shit,” Ryan breathed as he stepped out of the car. It was a three story house with large, blank windows that stared at him like too many, unblinking eyes. Other than a well-tended variety of flowers, there was no sign of anyone. 

With so many buildings, there could easily be a couple dozen people living there. The silence emanating from the area was eerie when compared to the bird song of the surrounding woods. 

“How the hell did they get this stuff built so fast? I thought they were only allowed to move out here a few years ago?” Ryan asked in a hushed voice, cringing as even his soft words broke the silence. 

“A lot of money,” Shane said, walking around the front of the car to stand next to him. He didn’t seem bothered by the quiet or the lifeless, creepy house. “They’re watching us right now, you know.”

Ryan’s eyes flicked towards him for a second before returning to the windows, noting in the back of his head that Shane was standing far closer than he normally did, even for their lack of personal boundaries. 

“All of the windows have curtains drawn. How could they be watching us?”

“Magic. Don’t punch me.”

Surprise made Ryan pay attention this time. “Wha-”

His question was cut off by warm, chapped lips as Shane leaned into him, body a long line of pressure pushing his back into the car. Wordless surprise kept his mouth open and Shane wasted no time in taking advantage, licking past his teeth and sliding their tongues together in a continuous tangle. 

Ryan brought his hand up to Shane’s shoulder, whether to push him off or not, he didn’t know. All thoughts were rapidly dwindling to nothing as Shane continued to kiss him with a single-minded intensity that was both similar and completely different from the kiss that had been triggered by the curse. 

He felt cut adrift, too hot as the sun beat down on them and Shane’s body seemed to blister his skin, even through their clothes. Unbidden, he groaned at a particularly clever twist of Shane’s tongue and as if that was a cue, the kiss turned sloppier, filthier. 

His hand crept across Shane’s shoulder, brushing against tie and collar as he wrapped his fingers around the back of his partner’s neck. For a brief moment, Ryan could have sworn that he felt snake scales under his fingertips. 

That foreign feel of too smooth, rigid skin snapped him out of it and he yanked his head back, gasping for breath. He stared wide-eyed at Shane, who was looking back at with him a nonchalant expression, as if his mouth wasn’t wet and red. 

“What the _fuck_ was that?!”

It was really frustrating that his voice was so shaky. 

“That was a kiss,” Shane said with an infuriating smirk, both eyebrows raised. “I would have figured you’d know that by now.”

Ryan could feel the heat of a flush at the back of his neck, annoyance mixing with inevitable arousal. It didn’t help that Shane was still leaning into him, a firm pressure that kept him trapped against the hard surface of the car. 

“No, that isn’t-Well, yes, why the fuck did you do that? But also the-” Ryan gestured vaguely at the back of his own neck, his fingers still tingling with the echo of the brief slide of smooth skin. 

Shane gave him a slightly confused look, but his smug smile didn’t fall. “Now they know you’re with me. Or did you forget they won’t deal with men?”

Ryan hadn’t forgotten it. Honestly. He shifted in embarrassment. “And what, you had to slip me tongue to do that? You couldn’t have just fucking told them?”

“I probably could have done that,” Shane admitted nonchalantly, his smile curling into something wicked. “But where would the fun have been in that?”

With a high-pitched little noise of frustration, Ryan pushed Shane and started to march towards the house, awkward and flustered. Shane did nothing to hide his amused laugh as he followed behind him. “You’re a dick.”

“You told me to tempt you. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“That’s not what I-” Ryan interrupted himself with an annoyed groan. “Nevermind.”

His burst of annoyance drove him towards the door, but when Ryan reached it, he suddenly remembered that he had been about to bother _banshees_. He took one step to the side so that Shane could walk past him, trying to make it look like that had been his plan all along. Judging by the quiet chuckle, he wasn’t fooling anyone. 

Before Shane’s fist could connect with the door, it opened. There was a woman standing there. 

She looked like a normal woman, at least, with clear, pale skin and dark brown hair that fell in soft waves below her shoulders. But Ryan could feel the sense of power pouring off of her, a skittering sensation that made the hair on his arms stand up. This woman wasn’t human. He shifted his weight without realizing it, poised on the balls of his feet. 

Other than a quick appraising look, the woman ignored him, which Ryan was starting to get used to it, even if it was incredibly irritating. 

“Madej,” she said, her voice smooth and rich, something about it making Ryan think of heavy, dark liquor. “You are late.”

If her voice hadn’t been so compelling that it demanded attention, Ryan might have missed the way the last word shook slightly. He looked closer and noticed that her hand, half hidden the folds of her long, black skirt, was clenched into a fist. 

Was she angry?

_Is she scared?_

Ryan threw a quick glance at Shane, but his partner merely grimaced in apology. “Sorry, we got a bit lost.”

“You had time for that little display. You could have just told us on the phone that Bergara was with you.”

Ryan dismissed the fact that someone else knew his name in favor of jerking his hands up in a short, sharp gesture. “I knew it!”

Shane ignored her words and Ryan’s reaction. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mrs. Halloran.”

She inclined her head, hesitated for the barest of moments, then straightened her shoulders and stepped aside, waving them in. “Enter and be welcomed.”

It wasn't the right phrase, but all Ryan could think of was spiders inviting food to their lair. Not that banshees ate people, but they weren’t exactly known for being friendly, either. They were cousin to sirens and rusalkas, and the only reason Ryan had decided against earplugs was because it would have been unaccountably rude. As he stepped across the threshold after Shane, he couldn’t help but think about how far into the woods they were. And how very easy it would be to hide a body. 

The first room was polished dark wood and demure floral paintings lining the walls, a long staircase at the end. It was surprisingly homey for how imposing the house had looked from the outside. Open double doors on either side led to more rooms, but his attention was caught by the sight of a young woman coming down the stairs with a determined air about her. Two more women followed behind, both of them whispering harshly at her. 

Shane shifted next to him. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Halloran asked, something in her tone making it clear that she was only asking for politeness’ sake. 

“No, thank you,” Shane said in much the same manner. There was something going on that Ryan didn’t understand. Boy was he getting tired of that feeling. “I need to know if you or your girls have foreseen any deaths in the past three months that pertain towards demons.”

Halloran drew in a long breath through her nose, as if bracing herself, and opened her mouth. 

The girl that had been nearly running down the stairs ran up to them, interrupting Halloran. “Máthair!” she exclaimed, skidding to a stop. Her eyes were wide and her breathing far more harsh than it should have been. But there was a determined air about her as she looked Shane dead in the eye and said, “I owe you-”

“Chloe!” Halloran snapped. “Hold your tongue!” And then she said something, a long rolling phrase in what Ryan could only assume was Gaelic. The two girls that had followed Chloe down were adding their own words here and there. 

Shane stiffened next to him.

When Ryan turned to look at him, he was shocked to see that Shane looked embarrassed. 

“What’s going on?” he muttered, sidling closer to Shane. If he hadn’t been able to see the way all four women were shaking, he might have thought it was just a casual family dispute. But there was a growing sense of tension and fear that even he could sense. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Shane said, then cleared his throat. “Doesn’t concern you.”

As if his voice had been a catalyst, Chloe bulled past Halloran and declared, “I am the Madej guardian.”

A silence, a hush that Ryan didn’t understand, fell over the room. 

Halloran closed her eyes and brought her trembling fingers up to her lips, as if holding back a cry. The two other women huddled together. 

And before Ryan’s eyes, Shane became someone else. It wasn’t a physical difference, he didn’t change his shape. But he might as well have. The embarrassed, squirrely expression fell away to be replaced by something harsh and unforgiving. He straightened to his full height, his shoulders going back. 

Shane had always seemed vaguely uncomfortable with his height, often hunching over slightly or finding excuses to lean on things. It was a phenomenon Ryan had witnessed in many people over six foot, as if they felt the need to hide just how tall they were. 

There was none of that now. Shane seemed to tower over the women in that moment, an anticipatory set to his stance, as if he was a moment away from attacking. 

Bravely, or idiotically, Chloe took a step closer, even as it looked like she was about to faint. “I owe you, Máthair.”

“An apology means nothing to me,” Shane said, an honest to God growl under his words. 

“I know,” she said, sinking to her knees. “I owe you my life.” She bowed her head, clasping her fingers in front of her so hard that her knuckles turned white. 

Ryan felt frozen in confusion. He had _no idea_ what was going on. For once, he wasn't even afraid, despite the oppressive feel of power gathering in the air. He was just terribly baffled. 

“You owe me three,” Shane said, echoes underlying the words. His lip lifted in a snarl, revealing teeth that were far too sharp. He raised his hand, fingers curled and clawed. 

“She didn't know!” Halloran shouted, stepping in front of Chloe at the same time that Ryan snapped Shane's name. 

It was clear to everyone in the room that it was Ryan's voice that stopped Shane from whatever it was that he had been planning, not Halloran’s. He tilted his head towards Ryan, but didn't actually look at him. After a tense second, he lowered his hand. 

“She didn't know,” Halloran repeated, spine straight despite her fear. “She’s young, she didn’t know who you were.”

“What the _hell_ is going on?” Ryan yelled. 

They ignored him. Of course they did. 

“She should have warned them anyways,” Shane said. “Who I am or was should have had no bearing on-”

“Máthair,” Chloe interrupted, curling in on herself even as she drew everyone’s attention. “I was confused. You possessed the body and sometimes I no longer saw death. I wasn’t sure what was a real premonition anymore.”

The rage that had been twisting Shane’s face drained away. He drew in a breath. Closed his eyes. When he opened them, his face was a blank slate. “So you’re saying it was my fault. That my presence caused their avoidable deaths.”

Chloe nodded. 

It felt like the world inhaled, a mounting sense of anticipation. The decorative glass in the door behind Shane and Ryan shattered. Then the lights above them exploded in cloud of fine shards that fell like sharp pebbles onto the women. Nothing touched Ryan. Distantly, he could hear the sounds of glass shattering and clinking throughout the house. 

Halloran flinched back, her eyes going wide, though she held her ground. The other two women shrieked and fled through a sidedoor. Chloe let out a cry as the majority of the glass rained down on her. She curled into a ball, covering her head and neck with her hands. Little drops of red appeared all over her exposed skin as tiny shards cut into her. 

Fear was an old companion to Ryan at this point. He barely even noticed it over the sheer anger and _irritation_ he felt at the moment. Shane was throwing a tantrum and he didn’t even know why. He stepped forward, ignoring the way it felt like he was pushing through water, and grasped Shane’s upper arm in a harsh grip. “Shane,” he practically shouted, giving his arm a rough shake. “Stop acting like the special effects in a bad horror movie and _calm the fuck down_.” 

Shane looked at Ryan, his pupils long and thin, then the corner of his mouth curved into a tiny, lopsided reluctant smile. 

The sounds of breaking glass stopped. 

“Halloran,” Shane said into the sudden silence, more of a command than an address. “Tell me what your coven has seen about the demon killings and I will spare her.”

_Spare her?_

With a shaking sigh, Halloran’s shoulders slumped. “Despite the fact that it goes against our customs, I’ll answer you. Out of respect for what you mean to us, Máthair. Not because of your threat. You know we don’t fear death.”

Ryan was going to strangle someone if he didn’t start getting answers soon. What did Shane mean to them? And was he actually going to kill the poor girl that was huddled at his feet? No, of course not,it had to have just been posturing. 

“About three months ago, two of the youngest girls began seeing multiple deaths scattered throughout the greater Los Angeles area,” Halloran said, sounding like she was delivering a report. “They were all muddled sightings, so I knew they were seeing the deaths of demon hosts. I didn’t think anything of it. About a month ago, my own sister started seeing even more deaths, but they were humans, so we ignored it. We didn’t put the two together until you called us.” She hesitated. Looked away. “Two days ago, I foresaw dozens of deaths. At the same time. I think it’s related.”

“When?”

She shook her head. “The feeling of it changes. When I first saw it, it was within the week. Now it’s within the month. The deaths aren’t set yet. But if nothing changes, many people will die.”

Shane nodded, a grim set to the line of his mouth. “Any names?”

“Mason Bordeaux and Grant Luthra were the only two I could name. The rest were too nebulous.”

There was a moment of silence where Shane simply stared, then he nodded again. In a surprisingly insulting move, he nudged Chloe with the toe of his shoe. She flinched. “Chloe Walsh,” he intoned, looking down at her like she was a bug. “You are no longer the Madej guardian. I never want to see or even hear of you again. Come on, Ryan, we’re done here.” He said the last completely normally, such a jarring switch that Ryan had to scramble after him as he turned and opened the now windowless door.

Just as Ryan was about to step into the bright light of the outside sun, a hand fell on his shoulder. He jerked and spun around to face Chloe, who was looking at him with a desperate kind of hope. Blood dripped, thin droplets from cuts on her arms. She looked like a crazy woman. “You’re important to Máthair,” she said. Training kicked in as she lunged forward and he tried to bring his forearms up to block her, but she was stronger than a human and drug him closer. He braced himself for whatever she was about to do, half-remembered facts of how banshees could kill running through his mind.

She kissed him. A zap of something like electricity made him gasp.

Her lips were a light pressure, there and gone before he could really register it. He stared, taken aback and bewildered as all hell. 

His skin tingled. It wasn’t pleasant in the slightest. 

Chloe’s eyes were dark, a lilt to her voice as she said, “I _will_ make it up to Máthair. You mean something to him. As long as the Bergara family exists, they will have a guardian.”

Ryan blinked. “Wait, you mean-”

He recognized the hand on his shoulder this time and didn’t fight when Shane drew him backwards and through the door. It would be nice if supernatural beings would stop grabbing him like he was a toy. 

Shane pointedly turned him around and walked towards the car, keeping his hand on Ryan and not looking back once.

“Congratulations,” he said, forced levity in his words as he belted himself in. He didn’t turn the engine on, probably since that would turn on the dash cam. His tone was so obviously fake that Ryan wondered why he even bothered. “You just got yourself a family banshee.”

Ryan had no idea how to respond to that. Banshees only attached themselves to _important_ families. And while they were important to him, he could admit that his family were just one more small group in a sea of humanity. “But why? Just to please you? Is it because you’re this ‘Math’ person or whatever?”

“It’s just a title, don’t worry about it,” Shane dismissed. 

“You said that about ‘Nahash’, too, but you sure to seem to respond to that like its a name.”

Shane’s mouth thinned into a straight line. “Mother,” he spat, practically throwing the word down like it was a gauntlet. “It means ‘Mother.’ Banshee mythology is fascinating.” It was clear that he was expecting to be mocked, and while he normally would have welcomed the teasing, now was a different matter.

Ryan realized his mouth was open. It took him a couple of tries to say something, since his immediate reaction of stunned laughing was probably not the correct choice. It had taken him awhile, but he thought he had eventually pieced together that Chloe had foreseen the accident that had killed the Madejs, but something about Shane’s presence had obscured everything, making her doubt what she had seen. Implying that their deaths were Shane’s fault. 

No matter what he thought of the situation, of his constantly changing opinions of Shane and the fact that he was a demon, that he wasn’t human, Ryan wasn’t going to attack him now. He wasn’t that much of a dick. 

Even if it was incredibly tempting. _Mother. Seriously?_

“I’m not forgetting this,” Ryan warned. “So those names, Bordeaux and Luthra. What’s important about them?”

He had expected Shane to relax once it became clear that he wasn’t going to pursue the comedy gold mine that had been revealed to him. If anything, Shane became even more uncomfortable, his fingers curling into fists in his lap. 

“Shane?”

“Sacrifices,” Shane said, almost a sigh. “It takes human sacrifice to power the ritual. At a certain point, it will take more than one sacrifice per demon consumed.”

“Wait, you mean every demon that has been killed, there’s been _another_ death?!” Ryan exclaimed, sitting up and staring. “Why didn't you say anything?”

Shane shrugged, relaxing his hands and spreading them in a helpless gesture. 

“God damn it, you son of a bitch,” Ryan growled, trying to think of all of the deaths he knew about. “That means there’s deaths that we could have been tieing to this fucker. We could have established a better pattern, found more connections! I had assumed that the cannibal is an opportunistic killer, since he can only take the bodies of people that fall into a coma by accident, but if he’s having to find humans to kill, that completely changes how we can track him down. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

A long exhale, then Shane said quietly, as if he was hoping Ryan wouldn’t hear him. “I didn’t want you to think about demons and human sacrifices. You’re already scared of me.”

Ryan made an aggravated noise of frustration, almost a snarl. “If you think I haven’t already thought of that, multiple times, you’re more of an idiot than I thought! Fuck, we’ve lost so much time.”

“I’ve been looking at the missing persons and John Does on my own,” Shane said. “You don’t need to focus on that. “ He turned on the engine with a sharp, jerking motion, the equipment lighting up and forcing Ryan to keep his mouth shut. 

The trip back down to the station felt much longer than the drive up had been. Barely a word was spoken between the two, both of them tense and quiet. Ryan was angry and had the feeling that Shane was too, but they couldn’t yell it out while the camera was on. And while he could have hexed it again, a part of him preferred to stay silent. So much had happened in the past hour. He needed to turn it all over his head a few times, just to make sense of it. 

Shane’s accidental involvement in his family’s deaths. His connection to banshees. A family banshee for the Bergaras. Human sacrifice. _Escalating_ human sacrifice. 

The stupid kiss against the car that, even now, while he was angry and frustrated, Ryan couldn’t entirely forget. 

Under it all, the memory of Shane’s invitation to his apartment from the day before. Through the rest of the day, despite working and his continued annoyance, he waited for Shane to ask him again. 

That had been the plan, after all. 

_‘I’ll get an engraved invitation, just for you.’_

Shane didn’t say a single thing to him when he left that night. He just nodded his farewell and walked away without a single glance. 

Ryan watched after him for an embarrassing amount of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, big shout out to my partner, who helped me with something of a writer's block and also read over the chapter for me. It was re-written twice, so if there's any weird mistakes, they're all mine. 
> 
> Second, apologies for such a long wait! It's been a very busy couple of weeks. Hopefully that won't happen again.
> 
> Last but not least, thank you so much to everyone that commented and left kudos. It means so much!


	8. Chapter 8

It was a jungle, wild, ancient and primal. There were towering trees, vines, and prehistoric plants as far the eye could see. The heat was a wet, physical weight against his skin.

Her skin. 

Ryan blinked, then looked down at himself. Alright, something was wrong. The last time he had checked, he wasn’t a woman. 

He felt oddly at peace with his situation, only a faint amusement filtering through the haze clouding his mind. That was the final clue he needed. 

_This is a dream._

Usually, he wasn’t this coherent during his dreams, even lately, but it wasn’t unheard of for humans trained in focusing techniques to experience lucid dreaming. 

As soon as he made the realization, it was like his vision was split. He could see the naked woman that was walking steadily through the jungle, but he also _was_ her. Somehow, there was no confusion. He was just both at the same time. He could see what she saw, feel what she felt. 

Despite the humidity, it was a pleasant warmth that enveloped her. There was crackling in the undergrowth, a flash of bright, colorful wings, but she didn’t startle. Nothing in the jungle would harm her.

Ryan realized, somehow, that she didn’t even understand the concept of ‘harm.’

Truthfully, the jungle was beautiful. He couldn’t help but enjoy seeing it through her vision, taking in the vibrant shades of green surrounding him, the glorious, perfectly formed flowers that released a heavy, floral scent as she walked passed them. 

At her feet, something moved, a long, powerful snake that slid its way around and ahead of her. She paused for a second, taking simple pleasure in the beauty of the darkly iridescent scales that glittered in the light filtering through the trees. Before the snake completely disappeared down the path, its tail brushed against her ankle, muscled and smooth along her skin. The woman watched after it, quietly joyful at seeing such a wonderful creature. 

Ryan shivered. 

Abrupt dread filled him, giving the entire scene a sinister cast. This-this couldn’t be what he thought it was. 

The woman reached out, touching trees and plants as she continued on her way. Ryan had the sense that she didn’t actually have a destination, she was just enjoying meandering through the wild. Why wouldn’t she? Even the massive tiger that crossed her path barely gave her a glance. She was safe in this jungle. 

Brightness ahead drew her attention and she moved towards it, finding herself in a large, sunny meadow. Tall, wild grasses and flowers filled the clearing. And right at the edge, like in a story book, stood a picturesque apple tree. Fruit hung heavy and red from its branches, ripe and perfect for the taking. 

Half in shadow at the base of the tree was Shane, lounging against the trunk like it was the most comfortable spot in the world. One bent knee was all that kept him from being as naked as the woman. Held lazily in one hand was an apple. 

Ryan was going to have a long talk with his subconscious after this. Christ, this wasn’t subtle, even for him. 

The woman was fascinated by Shane and she walked towards him without hesitation. She had never seen this man before. As she got closer, Ryan could see that there was something off about him. It was Shane, but different. He was still long and lanky, but he looked heavier somehow, like there was more compact muscle in his body. His hair was curlier and even in the shade, his skin was darker. The leg that lay out in the sun glittered faintly, the same way the snake’s scales had. 

Shane’s eyes seem to gleam a bright green as he smiled at the woman. She saw nothing but a welcoming, friendly expression. 

To Ryan, it was a smile filled with calculated seduction. 

With lazy, languid movements, Shane brought the apple up to his mouth and bit into it. The crunch echoed in the clearing. Juice spilled down his chin to drip onto his chest and the way he licked his lips afterwards was downright obscene. The woman didn’t know what to do with the heat that curled low in her belly at the sight of that, but Ryan knew exactly what it was. 

It wasn’t particularly surprising when Shane held the bitten apple out, a coy quirk to his eyebrows that invited her to come closer.

“Apple trees don’t even grow in jungles,” Ryan said out loud, blurting it into the emptiness of his own dream.

“It’s a metaphor, Ryan, even you know that. Though you're right, it really should be a fig.”

Ryan startled at the voice, his split attention twisting to take in Shane standing next to him. This was the real Shane, the regular version of him that Ryan knew and loved, from the straight, fluffy hair to the skin that didn’t glitter with scales. Even his clothes were normal, jeans and the eye-searing Hawaiian shirt that Ryan hated so much. 

He had never thought he would be grateful to see that stupid thing. 

“What the hell is going on?”

Shane, _his_ Shane, raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you Catholic? I should think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on.”

“No,” Ryan shook his head, familiar annoyance at Shane pushing the away the feeling of dread. “I mean this whole dream thing. Why all of this?”

That got him an unconcerned shrug. “I don’t know, man, it’s your dream. I’m just a figment of your imagination.”

“It disturbs me that even in my own dreams, you’re a dick.”

Shane grinned at him. 

Movement caught Ryan’s attention and suddenly, abruptly, he was the woman. 

She was barely a foot away from dream Shane’s stretched out leg, staring down at him with fascination. His smile widened, then he rose to his feet in a smooth, serpentine movement that made muscles ripple and clench. She felt a shiver steal down her spine, her gaze caught by the way his eyes seemed to glow, even when he stepped closer and completely into the light. 

It was an entirely absent minded gesture when she bit into the apple that he held up to her lips. She was too focused on his pleased, triumphant expression to really notice what she was doing. The fruit was sweet and delicious, but it didn’t distract her from the man in front of her. 

He dropped the apple at their feet with a thud that felt oddly final. The tips of his fingers grazed her chin, tilting her head up, then he leaned forward and brushed his lips slowly against hers. Then again. And again. 

Her toes curled into the dirt underneath her as she felt something she had never experienced before. 

Lust. 

Ryan was suddenly himself again, no longer the woman, his attention no longer split. He let out a shaking breath, an echo of the woman’s arousal making him shift uncomfortably. 

“What the hell? Is this supposed to mean that I see Shane as the origin of all sin or something?”

The Shane next to him snorted. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think that’s it.”

Ryan turned towards him, taking his eyes off the two figures that were intertwined in the meadow. “Then what?” he asked with a scowl. “You tell me, apparent representation of my subconscious.”

Shane smiled at him, teasing and a little flirtatious. “Do I really have to spell it out?” He leaned in, just like the other Shane had with the woman. 

Fuck, Ryan might as well admit that was Eve. 

A fingertip that felt suspiciously sharp trailed down his cheek. “The serpent. The seducer. You’re afraid, Ryan,” Shane whispered. His eyes were a bright, poisonous green. “You’re afraid you fell in love with the very creature that doomed humanity.”

“That-no. No, just because you-Shane is a demon, that doesn’t mean-Demons are probably from a different dimension!” Ryan stuttered out, his voice going high pitched in his attempt to defend himself from his own mind. “Eve and the apple is just a metaphor, you said it yourself!

“Is it? How can you be so sure?”

Ryan couldn’t look away from that sharp, cruel smile. “Why are you doing this, Shane?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that this wasn’t real, that it was just a dream. 

“If I have to suffer, then his favored children have to suffer, as well.”

“What-”

He fell into eyes that weren’t green or black, or even a normal brown. They were nothing. Aching, yawning, _seething_ nothing. An eternity of rage and broken anger.

And then Shane was kissing him, a hard, punishing pressure that forced Ryan’s mouth open, a tongue that felt too long, too agile licking past his teeth. Long hands wrapped around his ribs, squeezing, crushing, trapping him in place. He tried to jerk away, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t even breath, couldn’t-

He woke up on a choked inhale, sitting up and nearly flinging himself out of his bed. 

His medallion lay warm against his skin.

It took a long, panicked time for Ryan to calm himself down, to convince himself that it had just been a dream. That none of it had been real. 

He ignored his painfully hard erection. 

And the way his mouth tasted of apples. 

\-----------------------

When his alarm woke Ryan in the middle of a dream about great coils of scaled muscle looping around his body, he was one short step away from swearing off sleep entirely. He had almost grown used to the images of fire and snake skin that flashed through his mind lately, but hours later and he felt like he could still remember every detail of the dream of Eden. 

It was jarring to see a text from Shane, telling him that he was going to pick him up at eight. The contrast of the dreams with the mundanity of a text message about work gave the morning a surreal cast. He went through his morning routines in a daze, the time passing in a blur. 

Shane was already waiting in front of his apartment building when Ryan went outside, awkwardly draping a tie around his neck. He squinted into the sun and almost missed Shane’s car, idling next to the curb. 

Not for the first time, he thought about how weird it was that a demon was driving. That a being that didn’t have a body was manipulating one in order to drive a car around. It was probably no more complicated than walking, but the idea of a demon doing simple chores was oddly disconcerting. 

Or maybe he was thinking too hard. Maybe he would just add the logistics of inhabiting a host to the list of questions he had saved on his phone. 

When he slid into the car, Ryan had expected the same distracted Shane from the day before, who had walked out of work after barely acknowledging him. But Shane greeted him with a small smile and tapped a long finger against one of the two coffees in the cupholders. “So I realized that we didn’t actually stop for coffee yesterday.”

Ryan took a moment just to stare. “Um. Okay?”

“Maybe the day would have gone better if we had done that first, before visiting the banshees.”

“Right,” Ryan said, shaking his head with some exasperation. “That’s why it was awkward. Because you didn’t buy me coffee.” 

Shane watched him gingerly take a sip of coffee, gaze oddly heavy. He looked pleased when Ryan took a second sip. 

It was too early in the morning to question Shane’s behavior, so Ryan chose to shut his eyes and lean his head back against the headrest. “Tell me you got information on those names the banshees gave us.”

There was the slight jerk of motion as Shane merged back into traffic. “Luthra is a highschool teacher in Burbank and Bordeaux is a retiree from Anaheim with a disturbing number of parking violations. There’s nothing tying the two together.”

“If the cannibal demon just needs any ol’ human for the ritual’s sacrifice, would there need to be any similarities in victims?”

“No,” Shane said, “but I was hoping if they were in the same area, we’d be able to narrow down where he’ll attack next.”

Ryan hummed softly, trying to cudgel his tired brain into a semblance of working order. This wasn’t the first time they had dealt with someone using a ritual that required human sacrifice, but every ritual was different depending on the culture it came from. It would have been helpful if this particular one needed a very specific kind of victim, but apparently fate had decided that would be too easy. 

The drive was silent, both of them obviously thinking too hard to offer much conversation. Ryan was confused when Shane pulled into a parking garage in a business district, the location dragging him out of his thoughts. “I thought we were meeting Lucifer?”

“We are,” Shane said absently, stretching awkwardly to pull his phone out of his pocket. He read something on the screen and then let out a quiet sigh. “I agreed to meet her at her office, but of course she’s late.”

He said it with the annoyed but accepting air of someone that was used to that kind of behavior. As if Lucifer was known for always running late. Christ, it was weird to think of Lucifer having a personality trait like that. It was weird to think of her even _having_ personality traits. Obviously, she wasn’t the actual Devil, but still, the thought was unsettling. 

Ryan pushed away the mental image of a stereotypical devil apologizing for being late and groaned. He didn't feel like waiting in a car when there was so much work he could be getting done. Including starting his own list of missing persons that might correspond with the deaths of the illegal demons that Shane had provided the info for. “You couldn’t have just called her to have this conversation?”

Shane shook his head. “We’re only here because of your suspicions on Gibson, Ryan. I still don’t think it’s him. Either way, you never know who or what might be listening on the phone lines. It’s a surprisingly easy mode of communication to tap into if you know what you’re doing.”

There was a pause, then Ryan snorted. “This is how I know the whole ‘taking Biblical names’ thing is bullshit.” At Shane’s questioning look, Ryan snickered. “I would be incredibly disappointed if the Serpent of Eden and the fucking Devil couldn’t figure out how to have a subtle conversation. Code words aren’t exactly hard, you know.”

So many emotions crossed through Shane’s face that Ryan couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Shane’s mouth worked soundlessly for a second, then he started laughing, a fond, exasperated noise. “That’s not-” he laughed again, then took a deep breath. “They’re not hard to figure out, either. Damn it, Bergara, you’re a hoot.”

_A hoot. What the fuck._

Still chuckling, Shane unbuckled his seat belt and twisted to grab a reusable shopping bag from the back seat. “Good thing I stopped before picking you up. I hate breakfast, but we might be here for a little while.” 

Then Shane reached into the bag and casually handed Ryan a red apple before biting into one himself. 

It was just an apple. Mostly dark red, with little golden spots and a dark stem. Ryan thought he could even recognize the species. Red Delicious? Something like that. There was nothing sinister or off putting about it. He had seen hundreds of apples just like it while shopping for groceries. It wasn’t even a perfect specimen, either. One side was a little dented and slightly soft under his fingers. It wasn’t tempting, it wasn’t mouth-watering, nor did it make him feel particularly hungry. 

Shane had brought food for stakeouts before. At the time, Ryan had appreciated Shane’s thoughtfulness, but now he wondered if it had just been another part of Shane’s human cover. 

But this wasn’t a stakeout. 

The image of a darker, curly haired Shane biting into a bright red apple flashed in front of his eyes. He frowned to himself. 

_It’s just a fucking piece of fruit._

So why was it so hard to stop thinking of his dream?

“You got a worm? That's extra protein.”

Ryan flinched, his hand clenching around the apple too hard. He glanced up to see Shane’s raised eyebrow and he flushed. “Uh, no, just-Heh. You gave me an apple.”

Shane’s other eyebrow went up to the join the first as understanding dawned. “Really, Ryan? Literally a minute ago you were laughing at the entire idea of me being the Serpent.”

There was a teasing edge to his voice that told Ryan he was going to be mocked soon, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to actually bite into the apple. “It’s not that, it’s uh. Had a weird dream. It was the whole Eden thing. It was memorable.”

Shane actually laughed. “You know Eden and the apple was just a metaphor, right?”

_“It’s just a metaphor, Ryan.”_

Repressing a shiver, Ryan awkwardly sat the apple down on the dashboard in front of him. “Yeah, I know. Still.” He stared at the apple as he absently muttered, “It was a fig, anyways.”

“What?”

Ryan glanced up, confused by Shane’s surprised expression. “The forbidden fruit. It would have been a fig.” He frowned. “If it was real. Which it wasn’t.”

“Considering the time period of when that part of the Bible was written, yeah, a fig is more likely,” Shane said slowly. “I’m a little impressed you know that.”

“You said-” Ryan stopped himself, suddenly remembering that it was the Shane in his dream that had mentioned the fig. Not the real Shane, the one sitting next to him. “It must have been something I heard somewhere.”

There was a little huff of breath, not quite a sigh, then Shane reached with his stupidly long arm and picked up the apple. “There was a sale at Safeway for these. Trust me, this doesn’t represent forbidden knowledge of good and evil. It’s just an apple. If anything, it represents globalization and capitalism.”

Ryan watched too closely as Shane ate it, but he just crunched into the apple like a normal person as he looked down to check his phone. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting or alluring about watching him eat, so Ryan forced himself to look away after a few seconds. 

“You get two questions.”

“Huh?”

“We’ve got a few more minutes and I know you, Bergara,” Shane said, tossing the leftover bits of stem and core into the shopping bag. He leaned back against the car door. “You’ve probably got a list of questions squirreled away somewhere. So hit me,” he spread his arms, a little quirk to his lips that always made him look unfairly attractive.

It _would_ be a fast way to pass the time. Ryan refused to feel self-conscious when Shane laughed at him for bringing up an actual list on his phone. He scanned through some of his questions, but one right at the top caught his eye. 

“Why are you so good at pretending to be human?”

Shane tilted his head back, his eyes narrowed as he thought about it. “Easy answer? I’ve been doing it for a very long time. But I’m guessing that’s not going to cut it.” He glanced at Ryan, smiling when he received a glare. “Heh. Long answer it is.” He looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers out then curling them into fists slowly, as if studying how the bones and tendons worked. 

“A lot of it has to do with power,” he said after a moment. “Bodies, not just the human ones, are remarkably complicated. There are so many systems working simultaneously that most of the brain’s power goes to regulating them all. And it’s easy to get lost in the mix. Those weak demons that can barely walk down the street? It’s surface level control only. If they let themself sink into the body, really experience it, they would lose themselves. They would essentially become the body. And those that feel confident enough to go farther? To truly inhabit the body? It’s ridiculously easy to get something wrong. Heart, lungs, digestion, muscles, hell, even the mix of endorphins and chemicals that regulate emotion and instinct are all in a delicate balance that come crashing down if you change the slightest thing. You can let the system handle itself, a kind of auto pilot, but it’s incredibly distracting.”

Shane rubbed at the bridge of his nose, actually looking a little sheepish. “But, if you have a lot of power, a well-developed sense of self, it’s easier to devote a part of your attention to the body without losing your identity. You can split your power, then focus on the fine details, like talking and expressions. Damn, expressions took me a long time to master. That’s part of why there’s not many demons that hop bodies. You’re always having to realign yourself with how each new body works. I swear that Lucifer does it just to show off.” He glanced up at Ryan and shrugged. “I’ve actually got the opposite problem from most weak demons.”

Ryan made a questioning noise, the only reaction he could really produce while trying to sort through and comprehend the new information. 

“You’re dying.”

“Uh…”

“No, not like, now,” Shane said, laughing quietly. “I mean, mortals are always in a constant state of dying. Constantly replacing blood, hair, cells. To put it bluntly, you’re rotting.” Ryan curled his lip at the idea, but he couldn’t really refute it. “And I can-I can stop that. For the body I’m in. It’s hard sometimes, to feel everything decaying around me. It’s...it’s dirty. I want to stop it.”

Shane grimaced and shook his head. “But that’s a surefire way to make sure that people notice you aren’t human. People tend to talk if you never age.”

Ryan wasn’t really sure what to say to that. The more Shane spoke, the more it cemented the fact that Shane _wasn’t human_. Yeah, he had seen the spirit or entity or whatever that was the real Shane, but it was easy to forget that memory when Shane was right next to him, talking and eating and _real_. A physical presence. 

“Creeped out yet?”

“You’ve always been creepy, man, this doesn’t change anything,” Ryan replied on instinct, not really thinking about his answer. He chewed on his bottom lip, then hesitantly asked, “So if I meet a demon that’s really good at acting normal, they’re probably pretty powerful?”

“Not necessarily, but it’s a good indicator.” 

“Gibson was way better at facial expressions that he usually is the other day. If he’s been getting more power…”

“I still don’t think it's him,” Shane said. “But we’ll know better after talking to Lucifer.”

Ryan nodded and glanced at the dashboard clock. 9:46. He spared a brief thought for the fact that Lucifer wasn’t a very good businessman if she was always this late to meetings. Businesswoman? Businessdemon? “So how come you don’t do the whole ‘humans are ants beneath my heel’ thing that most immortal beings do?”

“Is _that_ your second question?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s a fine question,” Ryan muttered, making a ‘get on with it’ gesture.”

Shane smiled wickedly. “Sure, but I figured you’d want to ask about the horns.”

Ryan felt his cheeks go warm, but he managed a fairly credible glare. “I don’t know why you’ve decided to fixate on that.”

A grin that crinkled Shane’s eyes comically and then he looked away from Ryan, his smile falling. “That’s a complicated answer. To be brutally honest, I kind of do think of humans that way.”

That wasn’t exactly what Ryan had been expecting. “But you don’t act anything like the vampire in the Adler Tapes. Or even the fae.”

The Adler Tapes were a set of three tapes recorded in the early 80s by Dr. Adler, a psychologist who had managed to convince two different fae and a vampire to sit through an interview about what it was like to live for hundreds of years. The fae had been imperious and distant. The vampire had gone on a fifteen minute rant about the inferiority of humanity and how easy it was to control the population, like humans were nothing more than cattle. 

Needless to say, they were popular recordings, for all the wrong reasons. That vampire had single handedly set back supernatural species and human relations by several years. 

Not once had Ryan seen Shane ever act like that. Even the other demons Ryan had spoken to over the last couple of years, Gibson included, had seemed ambivalent towards humanity at worst. He knew full well that Gibson only insulted humans around him because of how much it would annoy him. 

Shane idly tapped the fingers of one hand against the bottom of the steering wheel. “What you have to understand,” he said, saying the words slowly, as if testing each one, “is that no creature of Earth is meant to live forever. Even fae die after a few hundred years. They’re considered immortal because it’s an easier classification than ‘stupidly long-lived.’ And vampires?” He shrugged, a subtle lift of one shoulder. “Technically a vampire could live forever, I guess, but they don't. They just don’t. Because they were human once, despite what some of them like to think. And humans aren’t mentally able to handle the concept of eternity.”

“Why, because they see everyone else die?”

“Partly,” Shane inclined his head, a shallow nod. “Watching everyone you know, friend or enemy, dying and leaving you, year after year, century after century? It’s a lot, y’know? And even vampires aren’t equipped to remember hundreds of years of memories. At best, you would forget most of your past, but it’s more likely that you’ll go crazy trying to live with the weight of it.” He huffed, a faintly amused exhale. “That, and the last two hundred years have seen so much change in technology and society that many of the older fae and vampires feel lost. It’s not surprising that so many have died.”

Ryan thought of what Shane was saying, trying to imagine himself outliving all of his friends and family, then watching the memory of them fade away. It wasn’t something he thought he could handle, even if the idea of seeing how far humanity could go with technology was tempting. “So what, demons don’t mind everyone dying?”

Shane turned to stare at him. There was something tired in his expression. Ryan would have said ‘ancient’ if he felt like being poetic. As it was, Shane just looked unbelievably weary in that moment. “It's not the same. Demons don’t lose their memories. And we don’t feel the same way you do. The emotions are there, don’t get me wrong, but they’re shallow compared to yours.” He paused, then added softly, “Maybe that’s why we try so hard to take bodies and find so much sustenance in feeding off humans. Your emotions are so much sharper. Richer.”

“Stop talking like human emotions are some kind of fucking cheese,” Ryan said, hunching in on himself. Fuck, he really hated being reminded that he was food. 

That got him an amused snort of laughter, even if Shane still looked tired. “You’re like American cheese.”

“At least compare me to a real cheese, you dick.”

“Cheez whiz.”

Ryan chuckled, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips. “Fuck you, Shane, I’m like a fancy gourmet gouda or something.”

“You are gourmet, that’s true,” Shane said. And for the first time since Ryan had known him, Shane shot him a quick glance that was downright _hungry_. 

It was an expression that was far too sexual for his comfort, too tempting, so Ryan forced his eyes away. The realization that Shane thought he was, well, tasty, was less appealing than he might have thought. He desperately made himself stop thinking about it. “Why do demons only feed on negative emotions?”

Shane shrugged. “I don’t know.” At Ryan’s look, he held up his hands, placating. “No, seriously, I don’t know. Why can’t you eat rocks?”

Ryan rolled his eyes, even if he could understand the point. “You still didn’t really answer my question.”

There was a long silence before Shane closed his eyes and sighed. “Every time I take a new host, I try to _become_ that person. And blending in, pretending to be human, that doesn’t include telling other humans that they’re little more than microscopic parasites destroying the planet that was a gift to them.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that it took Ryan a second to realize that had been an insult. “What the fuck, dude?”

Shane’s mouth curled into a sardonic smile. “See? It doesn’t work out too well.”

“Calling us parasites is real rich coming from you.”

“Mmm. Ironic, isn’t it?” Shane turned his head enough to give Ryan a half-lidded look. His eyes were green and black. He looked quietly angry. “Ryan, I’ve been around for a very long time. Far, far longer than you’re thinking. Most of the more powerful demons have. Don’t let the fact that we follow your little rules and kept mostly to ourselves fool you. We hate you. We just know better than to do anything about it.”

This conversation had taken a turn somewhere and Ryan had no idea what to do. Something akin to fear filtered through him, but it was overwhelmed by the sudden worry that Shane was saying he hated _him_. He managed to ask, “Why?” in a choked voice.

Shane slowly drew one clawed finger down the edge of the steering wheel in front of him. It sliced through the plastic like it was butter, leaving a gouge. “Envy. For the younger demons, it’s jealousy that you have so much. So much life, so much choice and opportunity. Earth. Hell is not a fun place, believe it or not.” He either ignored Ryan’s near soundless gasp at the name or didn’t hear it. “A chance to live the life humans take for granted is worth the danger.”

It was clear that Shane was a only half aware of Ryan as he flexed his hands absently. “Us older demons. The ones that were there since the beginning. We know what we lost.” An edge of anger entered his tone of voice. “We know it’s not fair.”

Ryan wasn’t even sure how he found the breath to ask, “Fair?”

Claws twitched. “Why are you allowed what we can’t have?” A sharp, jerking shake of Shane’s head, as if he was trying to throw away unwanted thoughts. 

The short pause was so thick with sudden tension that Ryan could only stare. 

“If I let myself think about it, the anger I’ve felt for a millennia, I can’t control it. I don’t want to control it. I want to lay waste to the world, raze all life to the ground, yea, until there shall be a great cry in all the lands, such as there hath been none like it, nor shall be like it anymore.”

Shane had always been a theatrical person, going out of his way to ham up his reactions. For as long as Ryan had known him, his partner had never had a sense of shame and loved getting a laugh. 

He didn’t think Shane was joking this time. 

There was a feeling creeping over him, one Ryan had grown almost familiar with. A looming dread, a sense of immense power. But this time it was so strong that it pressed down on his skin, a physical presence that checked his automatic reaction of amusement at the overly dramatic words. It was hard to find anything funny when it was suddenly difficult to breathe. 

“It’s not _fair_ ,” Shane rasped, his tongue, long, round and forked flickering out of his mouth to scent the air. The words echoed slightly through sharpened teeth. He hissed something in another language, harsh and sibilant. Ryan’s medallion grew warm under his shirt. “Why are you, with your filthy needs and puling wants, your rotting flesh and base desires gifted with his favor? Why should I bow down before _you_?”

Ryan had read enough of the Bible to understand the references. And what he understood made his blood run cold. But it couldn’t be true, what he was thinking was insane. 

_Shane can’t be a fallen angel, he just-he can’t!_

_That would mean_ \- Ryan couldn’t even finish the thought. He couldn’t face the idea that Shane was something so much more than just a spirit from another dimension. It was one thing to think that angels existed. To acknowledge that there was probably a counterpart to demons. But demons were just beings from another dimension, everyone assumed that. ‘Demon’ was just a convenient word, it didn’t mean anything more. It didn’t mean that God-

He shied away from a realization that was too big to fathom.

“You deserve the pain and agony your choices cause,” Shane said, literally growling. It felt like something filled the very atmosphere, a presence too large for Ryan to grasp the entirety of, too vast and incomprehensible to fit within the world. It felt like something wrapped around him, then through him, a brush of pure power that left him trembling. “You deserve every travesty and sin I ever visited on your pitiful little plane of existence. _You_ deserve Hell, not us.”

The smell of sulfur and smoke, mixed with something sweet and earthy grew so fast that it clogged Ryan’s nose. It would have gagged him if he had the breath to spare. 

Shane started snarling in that other language, fast and sharp, the sounds hurting his ears and digging into his skull. It was obviously a rant, but with each word, invisible power that felt like distilled rage pushed down on Ryan harder and harder. Fear that his bones were going to snap ran through him. 

It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Ryan flailed his hand towards Shane and managed to hit his neck. His skin burned under the contact. 

Everything froze, then Shane jerked his head towards Ryan. Dark eyes went wide, slit pupils going so thin that the green almost swallowed them. The palpable anger that had been beating at Ryan’s mind disappeared abruptly. The gathering power dissipated. “Shit,” Shane whispered. “Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Ryan could only stare. He felt curiously numb. By all rights, he should have been a gibbering mess of fear. Maybe he was in shock. Maybe he just couldn’t handle fear anymore. 

Distantly, he realized he was shaking and dragging in ragged gasps of breath, but his body felt unimportant. 

Oddly, Shane seemed to be the one showing the most fear, continually looking up at the ceiling of the car, as if he expected it to collapse on them. “I shouldn’t have said any of that,” he muttered, heartbreakingly apologetic for all that he still had a forked tongue and sharp teeth. 

Suddenly Shane’s hand was wrapped around Ryan’s wrist, claws scratching his skin. Ryan hadn’t even seen him move. He jerked his arm back, but it was like trying to fight against steel. 

“Ryan. Ryan, look at me.”

It was an instinctual reaction to follow that pleading command. Ryan glanced up, away from his wrist, and met eyes that were drowning pools of dark fire. There was something familiar about the fascination that pulled him under like a riptide. It was comforting in a way, the sudden realization that he would let Shane tell him what to do. 

“I’m so sorry.”

“Wha-”

“Let me in, Ryan.”

He nodded automatically. Whatever Shane wanted was perfectly okay with him. In fact, he _wanted_ to give Shane everything he asked for. His second sight glasses were still in his pocket, but for a moment he thought he saw, out of the corner of his eyes, dark oil drip from Shane’s fingertips and spread down Ryan’s arm. Into his arm.

There was the oddest, most peculiar sensation that he wasn’t alone in his own mind. Something alien, something that didn’t belong was also there. Except-No. No, it was alright. Everything was fine. 

Ryan couldn’t look away from Shane’s eyes. He didn’t want to. 

A shift in his thoughts, a nudge, then he was-

Falling into thin pupils-

Falling-

Falling-

Fall-

“Ryan, wake up.”

With a gasp that clawed from his throat, Ryan jerked forward, only his seat belt preventing him from falling into the dashboard. He quickly glanced around, wildly disoriented. “Wha-What happened?”

Shane gave him a weird look. The man seemed normal. For some reason, Ryan had expected demonic eyes and… _A forked tongue? What?_

“You fell asleep.”

“I-” Ryan shook his head. It felt like his brain was stuffed with cotton. And God, where had the headache come from? “I did?”

“Yeah,” Shane said with a snort. “I didn’t think telling you about the intricacies of inhabiting a body would be that boring, but you started snoring after only a few minutes. Rude, by the way.”

“Uh, sorry?” Ryan apologized, more of a question. “I don’t remember feeling tired enough to fall asleep.”

“Well, you’ve living a weird life, lately. That’s bound to make anyone tired.” Shane shrugged. 

Unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, Ryan glanced at the dashboard clock. 10:34.

_I’m missing time._

Wait, of course he was, he fell asleep. Why did he expect the clock to say something earlier? Unsettled, his gaze rove around the car. 

There was a gouge in the steering wheel. As if someone had taken a knife to it. Or a claw. 

Ryan shivered and he didn’t know why. 

 

\---------------------------------

 

Still in a disconcerted frame of mind, Ryan barely paid attention as he followed Shane into a tall office building. He absently noted the clean, luxurious quality of his surroundings, but he hadn’t really expected anything different from a building owned by Lucifer. 

Despite the fact that he had apparently gotten in a nap, his body ached and his head pounded with each movement. _Like I was fighting off an infection._

He had no idea where that thought came from. 

They strode past the large, circular front desk and straight towards a bank of elevators as if they had every right to be there. Ryan didn’t think he would ever get used to Shane’s ability to look like he belonged wherever they went. 

A couple other people joined them in the first elevator that opened, giving them sideways glances when Shane pressed the button for the top floor. It was a busy building and the elevator stopped every couple of floors as more people got on than got off. Since they were going all the way towards the fifty-second floor, it was a long ride. 

At first, each passenger tried to give them space, since Ryan had left his suit jacket unbuttoned, showing glances of his badge. But halfway up the building, the elevator became so crowded that Ryan had to step back into Shane, their sides pressed together. It wasn’t very comfortable, since Shane’s holster was digging into his arm. Still, it was nice to be so close. 

He caught the faint whiff of sulfur and threw Shane a glance, but the man was gazing unseeing over the tops of everyone’s heads with a kind of amused tolerance at their close quarters. 

Wait, why was he worried? This was a building owned by Lucifer. The workers here were probably used to the smell of sulfur. 

After a few more stops, the elevator emptied out. Selfishly, following an inner prompt that he didn’t really want to think about, Ryan stayed leaning against Shane. It seemed to help his headache. He could feel movement as Shane looked down at him, then a quiet breath of laughter. 

Fingers lightly caressed his side, pulling him closer into a one-armed hug. “You’re not exactly making this temptation business hard,” Shane murmured. “I thought you would be more a challenge.”

“I don’t know what part of ‘in love with you’ is so hard for you to understand,” Ryan muttered. 

The elevator slowed to a halt before Shane could respond, the doors opening to a lobby area manned by a single, massive desk. The secretary behind it looked tiny in comparison.

She also had impressive horns that jutted from her temples like those of a Texas Longhorn cow. 

Ryan blinked. 

That was a demon. Just showing off being a demon. As if no one would care.

_How does she get through doors?_

The woman looked up, her eyes narrowing behind her fashionable glasses. “Madej, Bergara,” she greeted with professional detachment. “Lucifer is expecting you. Last door on the left.”

“Thank you, Pazuzu,” Shane said politely, nodding as he walked towards the hall.

Ryan stumbled, then hurried after Shane, acutely aware of the pleased, predatory smile that the woman slanted towards him. As soon as they were far enough away that she wouldn’t overhear them, Ryan hissed, “Pazuzu?! The Babylonian demon king? Is a secretary?”

Shane shot him an amused glance. “That’s the name she prefers, yes.”

“I would have thought Pazuzu would have wings, not horns.”

“She does, but if she brought them out they’d take up the entire room. Little hard to walk around when you’re knocking everything off your desk.”

That made sense, but still. “I’m a little disappointed,” Ryan admitted. “Demon of the southwestern wind and bringer of storms.” At Shane’s surprised look, he scowled defensively. “What? I’ve read books. And he- _she_ has multiple wings in the myths. That’s badass, man.”

This time Shane was the one to hesitate, not quite stumbling. “You think having multiple wings is badass?”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Duh? Of course I do.”

There was a charged silence. Ryan took one look at Shane's quietly gleeful expression and stopped, reaching out to stop Shane as well. 

“Wait. Wait,” he repeated. “Are you-Do you have wings?”

Shane didn’t say anything, but he did send Ryan a rather proud smile. And held up four fingers.

Okay, Ryan really didn’t want to give Shane the satisfaction of being impressed, but-

“You have four wings?”

The nod he got was far too smug. 

“How does that even work? Like, physically?”

Shane shrugged, still smiling. “When your manifestations are shaped by cultural expectation, physics has a tendency to go out the window.”

“Huh,” Ryan said out loud, staring at the space over Shane’s shoulder’s. “Can I-” he realized what he was about to say as soon as the first word left his mouth and he ducked his head, abruptly embarrassed. Christ, he had met supernatural beings before, he knew better than to ask things like that.

“See them? Maybe if you ask nicely,” Shane practically purred, leaning over him with a seductive little smirk, breath ghosting across the top of his ear.

Ryan responded to that by scowling and pushing Shane away, ignoring both the man's’ laugh and the way his body heat had warmed his clothes. 

The hallway was long and carpeted in some kind of plush material that looked like it belonged in a house, not an office building. Large conference rooms behind frosted glass were on either side of them as they walked, eerily empty. Now that he wasn’t distracted by a conversation with Shane, Ryan began to realize that it was actually oddly quiet. If the secretary, freakin’ _Pazuzu_ , hadn’t greeted them at the elevator, he might have thought the entire floor was empty. 

The last door on the left opened as they approached, and a tiny, old man shuffled out. Ryan had a moment to be confused as all hell, until a face made out of wrinkles glanced up at him with pure, coal black eyes. 

Ah. Demon. Right. 

“Beez,” Shane drawled, the word dripping with mockery. 

“Nahash,” the old man replied with a grumble and a glare. “Bergara.”

Ryan sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling in a fit of exasperation. 

“Don’t let the door smack you on the tail on the way out, Bub!” Shane called over his shoulder as the man walked away. 

“Did you just use a gradeschool insult on-,” Ryan took a deep breath and resisted the urge to rub his forehead. “On Beelzebub? One of the seven Princes of Hell?”

“You sure know a lot about demon lore for someone that doesn’t believe any of it.”

“I never said I didn’t believe in it, I just don’t believe that you people are the actual thing.

Shane snorted and muttered, ‘You people? What do you mean ‘you people?’ under his breath, which made Ryan fight back a laugh. “You could say me and good ol’ Bub have ideological differences,” he added after a moment. 

Ryan quirked an eyebrow, but before he could follow up on that, they heard a voice calling from the open door, “Are you going to gossip all day? Should I just go to my next meeting?”

Fuck. Lucifer. How had he forgotten what they were doing here? Ryan cringed and let Shane step in front of him, trying not to look too much like he was hiding behind the taller man. 

The office they walked into was a reflection of the office at Lucifer’s house. Dark polished wood and multiple bookcases filled to the brim. If the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her weren’t giving them a wonderful view of the city, he might have thought they were back there.

Lucifer was the sitting behind a desk, looking surprisingly businesslike as she wrote something on a stack of papers. Her hair had been pulled up into a bun and her shirt was a flowing blouse that just managed to stay professional. 

From the corner of his eye, Ryan could see Shane hesitate and give Lucifer a weird look, but then he shook his head and strode farther into the room. Other than the one Lucifer was sitting on, there were no chairs. Ryan had to wonder if it was a power move or if she just rarely had people meet her here. 

“So why are you interrupting me in person twice in one month, Madej?” Lucifer asked without looking up from her work. “You smell like your humans.”

_Wow. Rude._

Ryan resolutely did not think about whether or not he had remembered deodorant that morning. 

“We have questions,” Shane said, casually leaning one hip on the corner of the desk. 

“Don’t you always?”

“About Gibson.”

Lucifer finally looked up, arching a well-shaped eyebrow in a silent command to continue. 

Shane glanced once at Ryan, almost nervously, then said, “We have reason to believe he’s a suspect.”

It was weird to realize that Shane had phrased that in the same way he would have if he had been reporting to Williams. 

“Gibson?” Lucifer asked, setting down her pen and standing. She moved slowly, almost cautiously. “My little imp? Aeshma? He isn’t powerful enough for-” she interrupted herself, frowning. “If he got ahold of the ritual and preyed on the young ones…”

“See?” Ryan said, half as an aside to Shane. “I told you.”

Shane ignored him and said, “I’m not convinced it’s him, actually. But Ryan thinks there was similarities in how Gibson and the demon that attacked the PIU act.”

Lucifer tilted her head to look at Ryan. Her eyes narrowed. 

“What reason could Gibson have to do this?” asked Shane.

“What motive, you mean? Isn’t that the lingo?” Lucifer mused, gaze still locked on Ryan even as she answered. He stared at her nose, oddly uncomfortable with meeting her eyes. “The same that any demon of middling power has, I suppose. He could want more.”

“Why now? He’s been loyal to you for-” Shane fell silent midword as Lucifer raised her hand.

At first, Ryan was impressed. Sometimes it was like pulling teeth trying to get his partner to shut up.

Then he realized that Shane wasn’t moving. He was completely still, no breathing or blinking. This was the same thing he had seen at the station when the cannibal had attacked. But this time, Lucifer was doing it to Shane. 

Ryan’s heart tripped. 

It was impossible to push back the rush of fear. Shane was, truthfully, the most powerful demon he had ever witnessed. It had been a fact that he had tried to ignore, since the knowledge that he was in love with a being that could probably raze a city made him uncomfortable. To say the least. But he was aware of it all the same, occasionally remembering the way Shane had _stopped time._

And Lucifer had just casually caught Shane in the exact same spell. Ryan didn’t think it was because she had taken him off-guard. 

Just how powerful was she?

Lucifer tilted her head, then calmly walked towards them. It almost angered Ryan how normal she looked, how human. It wasn’t fair that it was the powerful demons that could hide so well. He held his ground, more because he didn’t think he could get his legs to work than because he was feeling particularly brave. 

“Something has changed about you,” Lucifer said as if she was talking about the weather. “Tell me, have your spells been coming easier to you?”

Ryan stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, thrown by the random question. “No? I haven’t-I don’t really cast many spells.” Sweat started to drip from his temples. For all intents and purposes, he was alone with her right now. That knowledge preyed on his mind, making him shift into a wider stance unconciously. 

She hummed, propping her hand under chin, studying him like he was a piece of art. Or a particularly hard math problem. “What about when using the second sight? Does it still pain you?”

He opened his mouth, then paused. It had been easier lately to use the second sight glasses, surprisingly so. But how could she have known that? 

Lucifer nodded, reading his expression. “I thought so. Nahash poured far too much of himself into protecting you, it would seem.” A coy smile curved her lips. “This will make things interesting. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s changed you.”

Gripping at his necklace, Ryan scowled, defensive and worried and he had no idea why. “I don't know what you’re trying to imply, lady, but Shane hasn’t done anything to me.” Only his medallion and he’d already proven to himself that Shane had only put more protections on it. 

“Oh?” She leaned in, the smell of something lightly floral and sickly sweet reaching Ryan’s nose.  
“Have you been more bloodthirsty lately? Have you found yourself overlooking Nahash’s actions? The Bergara I heard rumors of would have never let so much blatant law-breaking slide.”

 _I love him_ , Ryan didn’t say. Shane was his partner, his best friend, he wasn’t going to turn him in as an illegal demon. That didn’t mean that he was suddenly-

The mental image of Chloe Walsh, blood dripping from the cuts all over her body. Cuts that had been left there by the shattered glass that had rained down on her. 

Fuck. Fucking _hell_. He could remember how he had overlooked those wounds as if they didn’t matter. As if Shane hadn’t used his power to scare and threaten an innocent girl. Sure, Shane had a reason to be mad, but that had been taking it too far. 

That wasn’t like Ryan. It wasn’t like him to just leave some poor girl, covered in her own blood, in order to follow Shane. Even if she was a banshee, he hated seeing blood on others. So why had he just walked away? 

But still, that didn’t mean Shane was brainwashing him or something.

He frantically shook his head. “Shane isn’t changing me. He’s not a fucking hypnotist. ”

“So he didn’t alter your memories within the last hour?”

Once again, Ryan found himself with nothing to say, though he was able to make some kind of confused, stuttering noise. 

Lucifer sighed, almost wondering. “I had never understood his fascination with humanity.”

“Wait, what do you mean about my memory? That-” he tightened his grip, the metal of the medallion cutting into his fingers. “That’s not possible.”

She laughed, a quiet, amused chuckle. “Yes, please, tell me what is and isn’t possible, mortal creature that has barely lived for a fraction of a fraction of the planet’s history.”

“He wouldn’t do anything to me.”

“He would if it would protect his precious little pet.”

For once, Ryan ignored the insult. He was far too worried by what Lucifer was saying. “How the hell would changing my memory protect me?”

Lucifer flicked her fingers, a dismissive little gesture, as if the question was unimportant. “Nahash clearly said something he shouldn’t have. With the way you’re going, Bergara, you’ll keep stumbling over the truth anyways. He shouldn’t have bothered.”

Ryan was so confused, so overwhelmed with the sudden deluge of questions that were popping up in his mind, that he almost yelled at Lucifer to just shut up, to stop leading him with these ambiguous statements. Would it have been so hard for demons to just _answer questions_? 

This wasn’t the first time he had dealt with a suspect that liked playing games, though. Not that he thought Lucifer was a suspect, since she was clearly powerful enough to not need some kind of ritual to gain more power, but it helped him to put her in that category. 

He drew in a calming breath through his nose before taking the bait. “What truth? What could he have said?”

Lucifer turned her back on him, idly walking back towards Shane. She reached up, her beautifully manicured nails lazily trailing across his shoulder. “Thousands of demons on this plane of existence. Have you never wondered why no human knows exactly where they come from? Why no one knows exactly what they are or why they never give details when asked about their backgrounds before coming to Earth?” She turned and leaned back into Shane, a parody of a lover’s casual embrace. It looked sickening with the way Shane was frozen. 

Ryan did what he could to keep the disgust and jealousy off his face, though he knew she would feel the emotions. Even if Shane had done something to him, he didn’t like watching someone nearly molest him. “Because you forbid them to. You’re their leader or whatever. The most powerful one.”

She outright laughed. “They’re demons. We’re not exactly known for supporting the system, are we? Thank you for thinking that I have that kind of control, but in the course of history, someone would have risked my wrath, if only to spite the rules.” She paused, her smile turning strange. “It’s not that we don’t say anything. It’s that we _can’t_. Ask me where I come from, Ryan.”

Wow, Ryan really didn’t like her saying his name. He briefly closed his eyes to gather some semblance of control. “Where do you come from?”

Lucifer opened her mouth. Her lips moved on a word that Ryan couldn’t read. No sound came out. She did it again and this time an odd clicking sound echoed out of her throat. But there was no recognizable words. She spread her hands, as if to say, ‘you see’?

“I don’t understand,” Ryan weakly admitted. 

“Are you familiar with Leviticus?”

Ryan blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. “The book of the Bible? No?”

She pursed her lips. “Christians these days,” she said with a sigh, then twisted and drew one hand over Shane’s forehead. It looked like she was petting his hair. 

When she drew her hand away, dark, ridged horns erupted from Shane’s hairline, curving up and back over his head. 

It took all of his willpower not to outright stare, but Ryan wasn’t going to give Lucifer the satisfaction. He did his best to act as if he had seen them before. 

“He prefers the name Nahash,” Lucifer said. “Out of the many over the centuries. Mostly snake related, of course, since he does love a theme. I rather think he’s proud of the eyes, don’t you? But it wasn't his first name. His original name. Who, exactly, was the Serpent? Who takes the blame for Eve’s decisions?” 

“So why, you must ask,” Lucifer continued after a short pause, staring intently at Ryan. “Does Nahash have _ram_ horns?” She didn’t wait for him to try and answer. “Do you know the concept of a ‘scapegoat’?”

Ryan was going to have a mental breakdown if she didn’t reach a point some time soon. “Someone that’s blamed for everything?”

Lucifer gave him a small smile. “Amazing how language changes over the years. A scapegoat in the original sense was a goat that was burdened with the sins of the village, then driven away into the wilderness. A living sacrifice, to purge the people of their damnation. A sacrifice they were willing to make, despite the fact that a single goat could provide a meal that might mean life or death.”

Ryan’s eyes strayed towards the ram horns without conscious effort. “I bet no one ever thought to ask the goat what it wanted.”

Lucifer looked surprised, then she inclined her head in a respectful nod. She stretched onto her tiptoes, then platonically, almost ritualistically kissed Shane on each cheek. As she fell back down to her heels, she made a gesture with her hand. 

“-centuries,” Shane said, life coming back to him. He looked down at Lucifer, who was practically plastered to his chest. He blinked, bemused, though Ryan was a little peeved to see that he didn’t push her back. “Lucifer, what-?”

Maybe the horns weighed heavily on his skull, though Ryan had never thought to ask how physical demonic manifestations were. For whatever reason, Shane seemed to realize they were there. His brow furrowed. “What did you do?” He sounded more annoyed than scared, which made one of them. 

With a grin that was more teasing than wicked, like a sister pranking a brother, Lucifer very clearly said, “You’ve always been my favorite scapegoat, Az-”

Shane clapped one hand over Lucifer’s mouth, casting a quick glance at Ryan. “Bite your tongue! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. 

“You know he’ll figure it out eventually,” Lucifer said. “I want to be there when he does. His face will be priceless.”

“You-” Shane said something in that tangled, hissing language that hurt Ryan’s ears, something that didn’t sound very polite. 

Lucifer just laughed and finally, _finally_ , backed away. “Well, Bergara, Nahash, since you’ve provided me with more entertainment than I would have expected, I will tell you that out of all of the demons in the state of California, my poor, angry Gibson is the most likely to be the culprit. I’m not saying he is, but he’s the...Prime suspect?” She grinned, making her body look much younger. “Maybe my next host will be a cop. This is almost fun.”

Ryan was getting whiplash from how fast everything had moved. What did scapegoats and Leviticus and the origins of demons have to do with anything? 

“Nahash, you know what to do, I assume?”

A side door that Ryan had previously assumed led to a bathroom opened and a darkly attractive man of average height, dressed in casual jeans and a T-shirt, wandered out. He was holding a glass of water and something in a closed fist. “Lucy, it’s time for your- Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were having a meeting.”

Nothing about the day, absolutely _nothing_ , from the dream of Eden in the morning, to the unexplained headache, to the wealth of frustrating hints that Lucifer dropped could compare to the sheer astonishment that came from watching someone call Lucifer ‘ _Lucy_ ’.

Ryan thought he was going to choke from how hard he was holding back his incredulous laugh. 

Lucifer and Shane, on the other hand, were staring blankly at each other. Shane had grabbed her wrist, the two of them completely frozen. It wasn’t the stillness of stopped time, but the demonic stillness that made them look like statues. Just barely, despite the lack of glasses, Ryan thought he saw something black drifting in the air between them. Abruptly, Lucifer took a sharp step backwards. “Tom, go back into your office,” she ordered. 

“Sure thing,” the man said easily enough, giving everyone a polite nod before leaving the room. Somehow, his friendly demeanor was the most disturbing part of the entire day. 

The two demons in the room were on the verge of facing off. Lucifer looked defensive while Shane was hunched in on himself, a man about to run. Despite his body language, his expression was disappointed. 

“Nahash,” Lucifer said warningly. 

Shane sighed after a moment and shook his head. There was something sad and resigned about his smile. “Don’t worry about it. I guess I’ll always be living up to my old names. Come on, Ryan.”

Ryan followed after Shane in a daze, barely noticing when Pazuzu wished them a good day. 

“I have no idea what the hell just happened. Absolutely any of it. I’m done with demons, I swear to God. They can take their vague language and shove it,” he said as the elevator doors closed. He looked up and _fuck it. Just. Fuck it. I don’t even care anymore._

Reaching up farther than he was used to, he grabbed ahold of one of the horns that Shane had apparently forgotten was still out. It was rough and dry under his hand, feeling more like bone than he would have expected. Shane grunted as his head was jerked down, eyes wide in confusion. 

That confusion quickly fell away when Ryan kissed him, a fierce meeting of lips and teeth that hurt more than anything else. Shane didn’t complain. He actually grinned when Ryan pulled back. 

“Horns, eh? I fucking knew it.”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan said, something hard in his voice. He didn’t think about the fact that that was the first kiss he had initiated since he had found out about Shane. “We’re going to get a warrant to trap Gibson in a circle. And then we’re going to interrogate him. When I’m proven right and we banish him, you and me are going to have a very long conversation.”

“If he’s the cannibal, he’ll be too strong to be held by a regular circle. I can’t be held by one,and at this point, he can’t be either.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But we’re doing this legally, Shane. By the books. No more sneaking around and keeping half the information to yourself. You’re not blowing your cover for Gibson of all people, okay?”

Shane tensed and searched Ryan’s face, gaze darting back and forth. After a moment, he sighed. “Alright. We’ll try it your way.” 

“Good.”

From this close, Shane looked frustratingly, achingly normal. Ryan could see the pores of his nose, a single crooked eyelash, and the way one eyelid drooped a little farther than the other. Tiny, inconsequential details that made him human. That belied the creature lurking in the body.

Despite the awkwardness of the position and the way that Shane had to bend, Ryan didn’t let go of the horn in his hand until the elevator slowed down. He weathered Shane’s jokes and insinuations. 

Ryan knew it didn’t have anything to do with a fetish or an infatuation. 

He held on to remind himself, physically and irrevocably, that Shane was a _demon_.

And that he had come to accept it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all like dialogue and backstory! So much dialogue. So, so much. 
> 
> Thank you once again, everyone! This is admittedly a very self-indulgent fic for me, so the fact that other people are enjoying it as well is simply amazing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated tags for both this chapter and the next! Please double-check them : )

In a frustrating echo of the day before, Shane became quiet and distant as soon as they walked into the station. Ryan forced his annoyance to the side as he went through the process of securing a warrant for Gibson’s arrest and the authorization to summon and trap him in a circle. 

Since Captain Williams was known to find Gibson nearly as annoying as Ryan did, it didn’t take much to convince him that the demon was a prime suspect. Williams actually promised to call a judge that owed him a favor in order to push the paperwork through faster. 

Something about that felt weird to Ryan. It was maybe the sixth or seventh time he had filled out the forms needed to investigate a legal demon, but it was the first time he noticed just how easy the entire procedure was. All it really took was ‘reasonable suspicion’ from a member of a police force. It didn’t even have to be a member of the PIU. And there was nothing to dictate what ‘reasonable suspicion’ actually meant. 

He had to wonder how many legal demons had been falsely accused of something. And demons didn’t get prison sentences. They were banished. 

Ryan frowned as his typing slowed down. Without meaning to, his attention turned towards Shane, who was talking to someone on his phone, expression pensive. Now that Ryan knew someone he cared for was a demon, it was bringing a lot of his prior actions into a light that wasn’t very flattering. 

Quite a few demons were just as bad as propaganda and stereotypes painted them, he knew that. More than one case involving a demon had been studied during his time at the academy. But then, he had studied just as many human criminals as supernatural. Even someone accused of raping and murdering dozens of victims had more legal rights when it came to being arrested than a demon accused of _petty theft_. 

Since Ryan had had to come to terms with the fact that his best friend and partner was a demon, he had known that his blatant insults and slurs were going too far. But he was just beginning to realize how far that prejudice extended. And not from him. From all of humanity. 

He watched, mostly unseeing as Shane hung up his phone then turned to start working on something on his computer. It was such normal behavior that it was still occasionally hard to believe that Shane was a demon. 

How many other demons were just going about their lives? How many really did want to stay under the radar and quietly exist? 

_But Shane and Lucifer could destroy the world._

Ryan shook his head at the insidious whisper of thought. That was just fear talking. He didn’t know for a fact that they were that powerful and he frankly didn’t believe it. Besides, there were a few fae that could cause localized earthquakes and tornados, and he wasn’t afraid of Lim. Williams was another matter, but that had more to do with the man’s ability to get him fired. 

He forced himself to pay attention to the forms on the screen in front of him. Unfair laws or not, he was convinced that Gibson had something to do with the cannibal demon, even if he wasn’t the demon in question, and if the banshees were to be believed, they only had a month to figure everything out. He’d banish Gibson himself if it meant that he could save more people from being sacrificed. 

It was well past seven by the time Shane stood up from his desk, stretched and gathered his things, then nodded towards Ryan and walked out. 

It took Ryan a second to realize that Shane had left for the day. That he hadn’t gone to the bathroom or the break room. That he had left without saying a thing to Ryan. Again. 

Ryan scowled and turned off his computer with jerking motions, trying to ignore the fluttering hurt that had lodged itself under his ribs. The two of them weren’t attached at the hip, contrary to the jokes half of their coworkers liked to spout. Just because Shane had been touching him more lately and willing to share so much about being a demon didn’t mean that they had to spend every moment together. They both had lives outside of each other. 

Which was harder to believe when he found himself sitting morosely on his couch an hour later, idly scrolling through show after show on Netflix. He wasn’t sure why he was even bothering. It wasn’t like he would actually pay attention to whatever show he did pick. 

The taste of the takeout he had picked up on the way home tasted like congealed grease on his tongue, despite the fact that it was from one of his favorite cheap restaurants. With a scowl, he sat the container down, annoyed that he had to admit to himself that he was pining. Like a teenager. Christ, he was better than this. 

His necklace was a persistent weight around his neck, a warm, constant reminder of the people that cared for him. He touched it absently. 

Shane cared about him. That much was obvious. And Ryan treasured the brief moments of the last few days where Shane had shown that care. The warmth of Shane’s hand on his back, the quiet, affectionate looks and, though he didn't want to admit it, the kiss against the car. 

Even the memory of Shane’s real form, the nebulous, living shadow that had curled so gently around his fingers and wrist, was something he remembered fondly, if nervously. 

But he was beginning to realize that he would give all that up if he could just have his _friend_ again. 

Shit. He missed Shane. 

It was such a stupid thing to think when they spent most of the work days together and had recently shared so many life-changing secrets that they could star in their own supernatural-themed drama. Yet, despite all of that, Ryan couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had just...hung out. Like friends. Hell, they hadn’t even texted each other in the usual, banter-filled way that they usually did. Not since Ryan had found out that Shane was a demon. 

As much as he had been throwing his love of Shane around like a blunt weapon lately, it was still true. It wasn’t something he had been exaggerating. And yeah, he was nervously intrigued by the idea that sex might actually be on the table now, but he had been fine with their previous relationship. Sure, he had fantasized about more, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a ‘bros for life’, ‘ride together, die together’ type friendship with the man. Hell, sometimes he thought he’d rather have a heartfelt, JD and Turk from Scrubs style friendship with Shane than this careful, strained, stressful _thing_ that they had now. 

He’d grown comfortable in what they had. Shane had been safe to be in love with. There had been daydreams of them growing old together in some kind of weird Odd Couple scenario. They’d be each other's best man at their weddings and get houses in the same neighborhood. They’d be the two old farts in the retirement home playing pranks on the staff, making incessant references to jokes that no one remembered anymore and trying to spoil each other's grandkids. 

Those were pleasant assumptions that were going out the window now. 

God, he wanted something normal. Just for a little bit. Just one night. A chance to relax and not think about demons or homicide or human sacrifices. It was tempting to call his brother or a college friend. Or even Wendy. 

But he wanted his best friend. And he didn't want to give that irritating lump of a best friend the chance to tell him no. 

So with a renewed sense of vigor, Ryan threw his uneaten food into the fridge and changed his clothes into something he could drive in. He was going to Shane's apartment and they were going to hang out like the friends they were, even if he had to hit Shane over the head with the idea a few times, damn it. 

The drive to Shane's apartment was oddly nerve-wracking regardless of the fact that he'd done it dozens of times before. He had made the conscious decision not to text Shane beforehand because he didn’t want to give the man - _demon_ \- a chance to veto a night of hanging out. It wouldn’t be the first time he had randomly shown up at Shane’s place. So he wasn't sure why he was worried. Would Shane be mad? 

__It was late enough that the street lights had flickered on, casting shallow pools of light along the sidewalk in front of Shane’s apartment building. From where Ryan had parked, he could see the front door. It was chance that he happened to be looking at it when Shane walked out and towards the residents’ parking area._ _

__Ryan almost didn’t recognize him. He was dressed in tight pants that made his legs look even longer and a dark dress shirt that, in spite of the distance, Ryan could recognize as one he wore when he was trying to impress someone. Why was he dressed like that? And where was he going?_ _

__Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Ryan contemplated for all of one second just letting Shane go. It truthfully wasn’t any of his business if Shane was doing something for the evening. It was his own fault for not texting or calling in advance. But as soon as the headlights of Shane’s car turned on, Ryan found himself carefully pulling away from the curb and following behind him._ _

__This wasn’t the first time Ryan had tailed someone. It wasn’t particularly common in their cases, but it had happened enough times that he knew to keep a few cars back and not mimic Shane’s movements exactly._ _

__He had never tailed someone he knew before._ _

__Luckily, Shane kept to brightly lit, crowded areas, making it easier to follow him. It was late enough that if he had gotten onto one of the bigger freeways, Ryan’s tailing would become obvious. Even if the man wasn’t paying attention, people had a tendency to subconsciously notice if they always saw the same headlights in the rearview mirror._ _

__Shane eventually stopped at a nightlife district, pulling into a parking garage. It was the kind of area that was filled with numerous tiny bars and cheap ‘clubs’ that appealed to the broke college students and tourists that wanted to party but didn’t want to pay a cover charge just to get their nose in the door._ _

__Pushing away the ridiculousness of the situation, Ryan parked a couple blocks away and hurried towards where he had last seen Shane. He was glad he had changed, because his shorts, muscle shirt, and baseball cap made him look enough like a frat boy that no one gave him a second glance. Just another college kid looking to get wasted on an early weekend. Hopefully he would fade into the background for Shane, too._ _

__Shane’s height made him easy to spot as he wove between groups of tipsy tourists. It was clear he had a specific destination in mind. Ryan let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t lost him, still trying not to think about the fact that he was tailing his best friend and partner as if he was a criminal._ _

_Technically, he is a criminal._

__Ryan ruthlessly ignored his inner voice._ _

__Continuously glancing up so that he didn’t lose sight of Shane, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick ‘what’re you doing?’ text. He watched as Shane got out his own phone a moment later, glanced at it, then put it back in his pocket without responding._ _

__Well that was rude._ _

__Okay, yes, he’d done the same thing before, especially when he was busy, but still. Just what was so important that Shane would ignore his text like that?_ _

__Before he could second guess himself, he pushed the phone icon on his still open screen. Ryan half expected Shane to ignore a call as well, so he was a little surprised when he saw Shane answer it. Hopefully Shane wouldn’t notice the background noise of the crowds and bars._ _

__“Ryan?” Shane asked. He sounded bleary and tired, his voice scratchy. If Ryan hadn’t had eyes on him, he would have completely believed that he had just woken the man up. He had the feeling that he was just beginning to realize the extent to which Shane could act._ _

__Shane wasn’t the only one that could lie, though._ _

__“Dude, were you asleep?” Ryan asked, trying to put an appropriate amount of incredulity into his voice. “Do you even need to-” he cut himself off, remembering that Shane had said something about people being able to listen to phone conversations._ _

__He didn’t think he liked this level of paranoia._ _

__“I know I’m pretty awesome,” Shane mumbled, fighting through a very convincing yawn. “But my body needs sleep just as much as the next man.” Ryan could read the translation of that loud and clear. The demon may be a spirit from another dimension, but the host body still needed energy._ _

__“Oh,” Ryan said lamely, making himself sound disappointed. “So you wouldn’t be up to a movie night?”_ _

__“Sorry, buddy,” was the regretful reply. Ryan could almost believe it was genuine. “You know how much I’ve been working. Either I sleep forever or I, uh-” Shane hesitated, then said with clear emphasis, “I eat more than either of us would be comfortable with.”_ _

Ryan nearly tripped over his own feet as soon as he realized what Shane was implying. Abruptly, he felt terrible for following Shane. Was _that_ what was going on? Demons fed off of emotion and Shane had been using a lot of energy lately. And it wasn’t like he could just take bites out of people’s auras during the day. Ryan had never seen any indication that Shane fed off of their co-workers, either. Was this outing a- _a meal run_? And he was lying because he knew how much Ryan hated that demons fed off people like that? 

__“I see,” Ryan forced himself to say. There was no hiding the faint horror. He could lie, but as much as it galled him to admit, he had never been that good of an actor._ _

__Shane made a quiet, tired-sounding noise of amusement. “Yeah. So, I’ll have to take a rain check on that movie.”_ _

__“Alright. Sleep well.”_ _

__“Thanks. See you at work.”_ _

__Ryan watched Shane put his phone back in his pocket and head towards a bar that was only advertised by a discreet sign that read ‘Mac’s’. He wrestled with the idea of following Shane inside. From a professional perspective, it wasn’t a good idea to follow a suspect into an unknown building. On the personal side of things, Ryan was going to feel like a complete ass if this was merely Shane trying to feed._ _

__If it was the latter, Ryan knew he wasn’t ready to witness such an act. He might have accepted that Shane was a demon, but there were some aspects to it that he was still having problems with._ _

__But Shane was acting incredibly suspicious. Ryan was following an instinct right now, an instinct that was rarely wrong._ _

__Steeling himself, Ryan pulled his hat off, fluffed up his hair, and slipped through the nondescript door of the bar. There was no bouncer, but there was a fae with long pointed ears that he nearly ran into. The woman gave him an unimpressed glare before magic shimmered over her face and her ears became round and human to his eyes. He blinked after her as she left._ _

__When he turned to survey the bar, he realized why the fae had given him such a derisive look. There were supernatural people everywhere he looked,all of them openly displaying their non-human attributes. In some cases, they were downright flaunting those things. Like the wendigo man who had tied so many bells to his antlers that Ryan could hear him all the way from the door._ _

__Ryan wasn’t the only human in the place, not by a long shot. But they were all with someone that wasn’t human. This was a place for mixed-species couples to meet and mingle. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how much he stood out. If Shane happened to look in his direction, he’d stick out like a sore thumb._ _

__He put his shoulders back in an attempt to look like he belonged and walked around the room towards the corner of the bar, trying to keep tables and people between him and Shane. The bartender eyed him for a moment but accepted his order of a cheap beer readily enough._ _

__Shane was preoccupied, though, and hadn’t noticed him. He was sitting at a table with another man, the two of them leaning towards each other as they discussed something softly. They looked remarkably cozy. For a moment, Ryan assumed something that made his stomach clench in jealousy and disgust. Shane had already admitted to feeding off of lust. Was he playing the incubus in order to feed?_ _

The idea was nauseating, but Ryan forced himself to remember that demons had to eat. And if the guy was willing, there was nothing he could do to stop it. It wasn’t like he was going to let Shane feed off of _him_. 

__Even if the idea of someone else touching Shane made him feel like he was going to throw up._ _

__God, this shift in their relationship was really fucking with him. He had never felt particularly jealous about the women he had seen Shane date before. Maybe it was because he was seeing Shane with a man. Was that sexist? He had no idea._ _

__Yet, as much as that narrative fit the immediate picture, there was something wrong with it. Shane was acting incredibly unlike himself. He was watching the guy with a fascinated expression that was so obvious Ryan could see it from across the room. And he kept touching the man’s arms and gesturing at his face._ _

__The guy, a plain man only noteworthy for his mane of thick black hair, was acting off. Ryan could see that the guy was a mix of twitchy and too still. Sometimes he would just stare at Shane, then he would jerk into spastic motion. As if he wasn't used to his body._ _

__As if he was a demon._ _

__Ryan tried to look closer at the man’s eyes, but the bar was too dark. He didn’t think his suspicion was wrong, though. The man was a demon. Probably illegal. And Shane was acting like a human. For some reason._ _

__Just what the hell was Shane playing at?_ _

__They were barely there for fifteen minutes before the two stood up and left. Ryan followed as closely as he dared, thankful that he had remembered his wallet and had brought cash. Trying to pay with card for his untouched beer would have guaranteed that he would have lost them._ _

__For awhile, it was easy to stay hidden behind the two men. But the crowds began to thin out as they walked farther and farther towards an area that was filled with business closed for the day and half-empty buildings. Ryan had to let more distance grow between him and his quarry as they continued. Eventually, it was only the three of them walking down the cracked and dirty sidewalks of a neighborhood that was eerily silent._ _

__The man would sometimes stumble and Shane would grab onto him, keeping him walking with a supportive hand that looked far too clingy. Seriously, what the fuck was he doing? Demons couldn’t feed off of other demons, so that theory was a bust. And if he was acting human, that meant this demon didn’t recognize him. What good would come from him pretending?_ _

__It wasn’t even a choice when Ryan followed them into a building that might have once been a store. It actually looked like it had been a Blockbuster, which somehow made it more creepy than if it had been an abandoned convenience store or something._ _

__Just before he opened the door to slip inside after then, he muttered a spell under his breath that was supposed to deaden the sounds he would make and blur his appearance. The only way he would know it had worked would be if no one noticed him, so he went in as quietly as he could anyways._ _

__His medallion was oddly warm. That made Ryan pause, but hopefully it just meant that this mysterious demon was leaking power. He crouched and edged into the main room, stopping to hide behind a counter._ _

__Shane was standing next to one wall, watching with a faint, derisive smile as the other man rambled on about something. Food? Ryan wasn’t really paying attention to the words. He was too busy being amazed that he had gotten this far without being spotted._ _

“So, _Balam_ ,” Shane said abruptly, clearly mocking the name. “You want to tell me why you’re helping someone eat your fellow weaklings?” 

__Ryan wasn’t sure who was more shocked, himself or the demon. Was this guy, this Balam, a suspect? Or at least helping their suspect? Was that why Shane had tracked him down?_ _

__“Wh-What?” The demon stuttered, going oddly stiff and wooden._ _

__“I know the real Balam,” Shane said calmly, as if discussing the weather. “He would never come to this plane, so you thought you could steal his name, didn’t you? You’re so weak that you can barely hold this body. I bet you don’t even have a name, do you?” There was a lazy smirk on Shane’s face that infuriated Ryan at the best of times. He could only imagine what other people felt when they saw it._ _

__“How dare-”_ _

__“Can’t even feed like a proper demon, can you?”_ _

__Ryan had no idea what that meant, but apparently it was a terrible insult. Because Balam hauled back and punched Shane so hard across the face that he stumbled backwards._ _

__It was instinct to step forward, an overwhelming urge to protect the man he loved making Ryan reach out, as if he could cross the expanse of the room before he could be hit again. But the demon seemed satisfied with the single punch and merely stood there, glaring at Shane._ _

__Well, at least he knew that the silencing spell was working. They definitely would have heard his footsteps, otherwise._ _

__There was a brief moment of tense silence, Shane hunched over and supporting himself with one hand against the wall. He snorted, a quiet breath of amusement as he wiped blood off his lip. “Rude,” he said, just as he looked up._ _

__The gasp was ripped out of Ryan._ _

__He had seen various pieces of Shane’s demonic manifestations before, but never so many at once. Black and green eyes, ram’s horns, and clawed fingers. Shane grinned when the other demon made a surprised noise, a forked tongue darting out from between too sharp teeth._ _

And then, with all of the panache of a grand theatrical reveal, four _appendages_ unfurled from Shane’s back. At first, Ryan thought they were giant spider legs. But after a second, he realized they were more like blackened bone, long and cracked. They arched back like- 

_Like wings._

__Ryan knew he was gaping._ _

__He hadn’t forgotten that Shane had said he had wings, but he had been expecting bat wings, not this terrifying cluster of bone._ _

__That niggled at something in the back of Ryan’s mind, but he was too busy watching the unfolding drama to pay attention._ _

__Balam whispered something in a terrified voice, then jerked. A thin, very small smear of dark oil rose from his body. Distantly, Ryan realized that he shouldn’t be able to see a demon like this without his glasses, but that was something else to be ignored until later._ _

__Shane snapped his fingers, an arrogantly exaggerated gesture. Runes flared up in a circle around the other demon, so bright that they blinded Ryan._ _

Abruptly, Ryan realized that he could _see_. They had slipped into an abandoned building that probably didn’t even have electricity. There were slivers of light from the street lights that were filtering in through the covered windows, but not much of it. There was no way that Ryan should have been able to see everything that was going on. 

__Demons didn’t have a problem with the dark, though. And that realization made a horrifying suspicion rise up in Ryan’s mind._ _

__Just what had Lucifer said about Shane changing him?_ _

__He was so preoccupied with his sudden, worrying thoughts that he nearly missed how Balam’s body started to crumple, then stumble backwards._ _

__The smear trying to escape sank back into the body._ _

__“Wh-what did you do?” Balam gasped, twitching where he stood._ _

__“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me everything you know about our cannibalistic brother.”_ _

__Balam jerked an awkward step away from Shane, stereotypical Halloween-style horns and a triangle tail flickering in and out of existence on him. “You don’t scare me,” he hissed, the lie so obvious it was pathetic. “You can’t do anything to me that will make me talk.”_ _

Shane smirked. Ryan wanted to smack himself for even thinking it, but the expression was _evil_. 

__“This is your first time, isn’t it, little one?” Shane sounded almost paternal, but it was marred by the sadistic glee in his eyes. He didn’t wait for the other demon to answer. “You’ve never experienced the level of pain that bodies can feel, have you?”_ _

__Ryan could hear Balam swallow from all the way across the room. “I’ve been in Hell for centuries, snake. Pain means nothing to me.”_ _

__Shane rolled his eyes. “‘Snake?’ Really? Was that supposed to be an insult?” And then he casually backhanded Balam._ _

__The other demon went flying, only to crash into an invisible barrier at the edge of the circle of runes, sliding down to the floor._ _

__It was all Ryan could do not to run over there and start yelling at Shane. Just what the fuck did he think he was doing?_ _

__Reinforcing the idea that they looked more like spider legs than wings, one of the longer bones jutting out from behind Shane swept forward and flipped Balam onto his back. The demon groaned, a surprised note to the sound._ _

__Shane calmly walked over to him and stared down. “You have no idea what existence is like on this plane. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go back.”_ _

__Balam tried to spit at Shane, but the bloody saliva fell short._ _

__That got an actual laugh out of Shane._ _

__Ryan was starting to feel sick to his stomach._ _

This-this was _wrong_. 

__Shane made a short gesture with one hand and lines split in patterns down Balam’s face, as if something had clawed him neatly and precisely. Thin trickles of blood started to well up immediately. Balam cried out and Ryan flinched._ _

_This is torture_. 

__As if he was looking at a bug, Shane tilted his head, watching with interest as Balam squirmed. It looked like he was trying to get to his feet but couldn’t quite figure out how to do so. The red horns were a permanent fixture now as he lost more control of the body he was in._ _

__They looked cheap and comical next to the ram horns curving from Shane’s skull._ _

__Except there nothing was funny about what was going on._ _

__“Wow,” Shane drawled. “I’ve barely started and you’re already a mess. Just where did he find you? Under a rock?”_ _

__Balam growled something that Ryan couldn’t understand._ _

__Shane raised his eyebrows. “No respect for your elders.” He drew a figure in the air with one clawed finger._ _

__Balam started screaming._ _

__It was a horrific noise. Human pain mixing with the reverberating echoes of a demon’s power. Ryan couldn’t see what was happening to him but it sounded terrible._ _

__“Amazing how sensitive the insides are,” Shane mused, taking a step backwards as Balam started writhing. “Perforated bowels are such a pain.”_ _

Ryan couldn’t do this. He couldn’t watch while Shane was inflicting pain on a living creature and making _puns_. 

__“Shane.”_ _

__Ryan couldn’t hear his own voice and he remembered the spell he had cast earlier. With a frown of concentration, he murmured the words to end it. And this time, he stepped forward as he repeated himself._ _

__In hindsight, appearing from behind a counter was probably not the smartest plan._ _

At the sound of his own name, Shane spun and crouched defensively, teeth bared and all four bones- _wings_ up in an arching, aggressive manner. He didn’t look human. 

He looked. Alien. _Other_. In that brief moment before recognition, he looked like every nightmare that humanity had ever dreamt. 

__Ryan took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was his best friend. “Shane,” he tried for the third time. “What the fuck are you doing?”_ _

__“Ryan,” Shane finally said, his voice cracking from the sheer surprise. He slowly straightened up, his wings settling behind him._ _

__“Bergara,” Balam gasped, staring at him with eyes just as wide as Shane’s were._ _

__Shane glanced down at Balam, then waved his fingers. The other demon froze mid-gesture._ _

__“Ryan, what the fuck are you doing here?” Shane asked, not looking up from Balam._ _

__“I asked you first,” Ryan snapped, clutching onto his anger to fight past the fear and nausea._ _

__Shane growled, a human sound of irritation, not the demonic version meant for intimidation. It was odd coming out of a creature that looked so wholey inhuman. “This isn’t a joke, Ryan. You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave.”_ _

__“Why, so you can go back to torturing this guy?”_ _

“This _guy_ is a demon,” Shane said, finally looking up. There was a surprising amount of anger in the way his upper lip was curled in a sneer. “How did you find me? How the fuck did you even manage to sneak in here without me noticing?” 

__Ryan actually had no idea, but that wasn’t as important as the fact that Shane was dodging the question. “Demon or not, you don’t fucking torture people! The fuck is wrong with you?”_ _

One second, Shane was across the room. The next, he was right in front of Ryan, looming over him threateningly. “What’s wrong with me is that I’m a _demon_ , Ryan.” His eyes were oddly expressive despite the inhuman sclera and snake pupils. “Did you forget that? Did you start convincing yourself that I was some kind of fucking ‘tame’ demon?” 

Yes, but Ryan wasn’t going to admit that out loud. “I don’t care if you’re the fucking Marquis de Sade, we don’t _torture the weak for information, Sergeant Madej_ ,” he said, putting as much emphasis as he could on the last of the sentence. 

__“If you think for one second that I care about human laws-”_ _

__“Oh fuck off, Shane,” Ryan spat, shoving at his chest. “I know you, you dick. You’re not nearly as scary as you’re trying to pretend you are.”_ _

__A blatant lie, but if Ryan acknowledged that, he’d start screaming._ _

__Shane honestly looked offended._ _

__Abruptly there were claws in the front of Ryan’s shirt, lifting and pulling him onto his toes. “You think I’d balk at a little torture, Ryan?” Shane hissed, his jaw looking almost unhinged as his tongue flickered out. “You think I’ve never done this before? You think I’ve never done the kind of unspeakable things that would make you fucking throw up if you knew about them?” He shook Ryan like he was a ragdoll. “You think I’ve never flayed the skin off my enemies or burnt their followers for the fun of it? You think I’ve never gotten entire communities so addicted to my touch that they died from the craving? Or made them sacrifice themself in my name? Just because I could?”_ _

__Ryan knew he was trembling, but he didn’t let it affect his voice. “You done?”_ _

__Shane's jaw dropped farther in surprise at Ryan's flat tone. Then his eyes narrowed, slit pupils widening as he focused on Ryan. He looked like he wanted to rip him apart. It was terrifying to realize that he could do exactly that._ _

__When Shane didn’t answer right away, Ryan gently wrapped his hand around Shane’s wrist. “Do you think I’m an idiot? If you haven’t been lying to me about your age, you’ve been around for thousands of years. Of course you’ve done things. I know you’ve-” he faltered, took a deep breath, then admitted, “I know you’ve probably done things that I-” Another hesitant pause. “I frankly don’t want to know about. But that’s not who you are anymore.”_ _

__Shane slowly relaxed his grip on Ryan’s shirt, expression growing perplexed and a little lost. “You don’t know me. You only know what I’ve pretended to be.”_ _

__“Bullshit,” Ryan said flatly, sliding his hand up to tangle his fingers in Shane’s. “When was the last time you tortured someone? Or are you going to tell me you've been going around picking up illegal demons every night to 'question’?”_ _

__“No, this is the first night I-” Shane interrupted himself, his confusion evident as he fixed his gaze on their fingers. “It’s been awhile.”_ _

__“When was the last time you made someone an incubus thrall?”_ _

__“...Even longer.”_ _

__Ryan’s heart tripped and stuttered, but he forced himself to ask, “And when was the last time you killed someone?”_ _

__“Ryan…”_ _

__“Tell me, Shane.”_ _

__Shane closed his eyes. The demonic features all melted away. Suddenly, he was just a normal, exhausted human man. “August 23rd, 1914. Heinrich Weber.”_ _

__Ryan blinked. He had expected a vague answer. Not the exact information. But it just proved his point. “Over a hundred years, Shane.”_ _

__“Murderers are routinely sentenced to far longer.”_ _

__“Why did you kill him?”_ _

__“Are you sure you really want to know that answer? Maybe I just didn’t like his hair.” Shane asked, slowly opening his eyes. The joke was delivered listlessly, a tired attempt at normal. He hadn’t seperated their hands._ _

__“Would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”_ _

__Shane gave him a sad half-smile. “You? Yeah.” He sighed. “Weber killed my sister.”_ _

__Of all the answers Ryan could have anticipated, that was one that hadn’t even occurred to him. “Wait, what?”_ _

__“First Lieutenant Kenneth Patterson of the King’s Own Scottish Borderers, Second Battalion,” Shane said, saluting with his free hand. Ryan was pretty sure it was the wrong hand, but he was too busy staring to say anything. “I possessed him when he was three. Got trampled by a runaway horse. His sister Innis figured it out after a few years. It’s hard for me to act like a child. But she still treated me like a brother.” The more Shane talked the more a faint accent started to color his words._ _

__Without looking up, Shane abruptly asked, “Do you really want to hear this? Are you sure you don’t want to just keep yelling at me?”_ _

__“Shane…”_ _

__A longer sigh, then Shane continued. “The Great War. I joined. Everyone in my set did. And Innis did, too. She was a nurse. For some fucking reason, she ended up at the same battle as me. It was bad. Really bad. But she should have been safe. She was at the battalion aid station, she shouldn’t have gotten hit.” He shrugged, his gaze distant, as if he was just telling a story he had heard somewhere else. “Something happened. Enemy infantry got closer than we thought. She caught a stray bullet. I got there just in time to watch to her choke to death on her own blood.”_ _

__Ryan made a horrified noise that Shane didn’t seem to hear._ _

__“If I had been there I could have-” He cut himself off. “Anyways. I wasn’t thinking right. Cast a spell right there to match the bullet to the gun. Then I found the guy holding the gun. I didn’t even kill him as a demon. I killed him with a Webley .38 revolver.”_ _

__“Wait,” Ryan said abruptly, startling Shane. “August 23rd? 1914? Wasn’t that the Battle of Mons?”_ _

__Shane raised one eyebrow. “Yes.”_ _

__“You were there? You saw the Angel of Mons? Was she-” Ryan stopped and winced. He squeezed Shane’s hand. “Ignore that. I’m sorry about your sister. But you’re kind of proving my point. Whatever you were like centuries ago, you’re you now. And it sounds like you have been for some time.”_ _

__“What, I killed a man with a human weapon so that makes it okay?”_ _

__“No, Shane, of course not,” Ryan shook his head. “But it was for a very human reason. And you haven’t done it since.”_ _

Shane let out a breath that seemed to come from his very toes. He looked so tired and old. “You’re missing _my_ point. Ryan, I couldn’t save her. And I couldn’t save my family. Now I’ve got another human I have to protect. And I won’t let this one die." 

“I’m not a _pet_.” 

__“Who said it was you?” Shane said with an attempt at a smile. The joke fell flat when Ryan just stared at him. “Ryan, if I have to torture every single demon in California to keep you safe, I’ll do it. And I won’t stop until I know for sure that we’ve banished the right one.” He slowly let go of Ryan’s hand. “I’d rather you be disgusted with me and alive than dead.”_ _

“I’m not going to be the reason behind _this_ ,” Ryan said with the beginnings of a glare, gesturing at the frozen form of Balam. 

__“Too late for that.”_ _

__Ryan scowled at the flippant answer. “You need to let him go.”_ _

__“You want me to let an illegal demon go?” Shane asked, raising one eyebrow. It was the same expression he always used when he thought Ryan was being stupid. Usually it wasn’t in such a tense situation, though. “An illegal demon that only got this body because the cannibal summoned him and then knocked out some poor guy so he’d have a host?”_ _

__“How the hell would you know that?”_ _

__Shane nudged Balam’s foot with his toe. “This delightful fella can barely hold a body that’s brain dead. There’s no way he could have come to Earth on his own.” He looked up suddenly, his brows furrowed. “Wait, did you think I was doing permanent damage to a host body that could be saved?”_ _

__Ryan paused, something about the question making dread curl in his stomach. “I, uh, yes?”_ _

__Now Shane was looking at him as if he had never seen him before. “And you still wanted me to let him go? Without banishing him?”_ _

__The jarring realization that he hadn’t even considered the host made his vision narrow and go black at the edges. He stared unseeing at the still form at their feet. It felt like there was something stuck in his throat that he couldn’t swallow._ _

__He had even noticed that the demon couldn’t control his body very well. He had thought it was funny. But not once had he thought about the actual owner of said body._ _

Ryan had forgotten about the innocent _human_

_I forgot. I forgot, I forgot, I for-_

__“What are you doing to me?” Ryan whispered, looking up with wide, scared, eyes._ _

__“What? Ryan, I’m not doing anything.” Shane said. He reached out, his expression confused and worried._ _

__It was just a plain, normal, human hand, but Ryan flinched all the same. Shane stopped, then slowly lowered his arm._ _

__“Ryan-”_ _

__“Let him go.”_ _

__“You’re not thinking right-”_ _

__“Let him go!” Ryan exclaimed, wrapping anger around the fear just to function. He couldn’t handle the idea that he was forgetting to care about his own species, not now, not while there were more important things happening. He drug in a sharp breath, then shook his head. “Shane, just. Ask him your questions. But let him go. “_ _

__Shane stared at him with an unreadable expression. Ryan wasn’t sure what he found, but after a second he made a small gesture of his fingers, then Balam jerked forward, continuing his movement of reaching towards Ryan. But the demon curled forward with a short cry, clutching at his stomach and moaning._ _

__Ryan grit his teeth and tried to focus on the fact that Shane had said the host body was brain dead._ _

__“Who brought you across, little one?” Shane asked, crouching next to Balam._ _

__The demon shook his head._ _

__“It can get so much worse,” was the sly whisper that Ryan almost didn’t hear. He glared at Shane, but stayed silent. He hadn’t said they couldn’t use threats._ _

__“I don’t know,” Balam gasped out, shaking. He glanced up at them, a sharp, pointed beard flickering into existence across his chin._ _

__Despite the seriousness of the situation, or maybe because of it, Ryan had to bite his lip to stop from laughing. The modern cultural stereotype of a demon was not doing this guy any favors._ _

__“You’re lying.”_ _

__“No, I swear, I-”_ _

__“You know who I am,” Shane said with condescending, almost disappointed twist to his mouth. “Save yourself the trouble and stop thinking you can pull the wool over my eyes.”_ _

__“...What?”_ _

__Shane glanced up at Ryan, as if to say ‘you see what I have to put up with?’ and sighed. “You can’t lie to me.”_ _

__Balam shook his head a few more times, occasional whimpers of pain falling from him. Before Shane could grow impatient, the demon sent one more quick look at Ryan, then he muttered, “Aeshma.”_ _

__“Fuck,” Shane said, almost conversationally. “Well, damn it. Get it over with, Ryan.”_ _

__Ryan furrowed his eyebrows. “Get what over with?”_ _

__“You were right. It’s Gibson.”_ _

__Normally, Ryan would have jumped at the opportunity to yell ‘I told you so’ and lord it over Shane. That’s obviously what his partner was expecting, anyways. But while there was a small flare of satisfaction that his instincts had been correct, he just felt tired._ _

__He didn’t like Gibson. But he had been a familiar presence in his life. And it hurt to think that someone he had grudgingly enjoyed animosity with was actually a murderer. Both to humans and demons._ _

__Ryan sighed and walked towards Balam. He studied the runes that were curved around the demon. They were intricate, delicate things. Oddly pretty for something created by a demon. And they were made of soot._ _

__God, all he had wanted to do was hang out with his best friend._ _

__He drew his foot back._ _

__“Ryan, wait-”_ _

__As soon as his toe scuffed all the way through one of the runes, Balam shrieked an unknown word at the top of his lungs. Ryan flinched back, half expecting an attack, but Balam just started to scream, “He’s here, Aeshma, he’s here! His human is with him!”_ _

In one of those moves that Ryan’s eyes could never quite catch, Shane was suddenly in the broken circle, holding Balam at arm’s length, his hand wrapped around the demon’s mouth. “You _idiot_ ,” he hissed at Balam. 

__There was a rush of wind that blew past Ryan._ _

__Gibson was standing at the entrance of the store, dressed in a white undershirt and slacks. There were no shoes on his feet, just black socks. He looked like a businessman that had been called away from dinner._ _

__Everyone paused for one infinite, tense second._ _

__“Well then,” Gibson said into the silence. “I guess the cat is out of the bag.”_ _

__So many things happened in such quick succession that it was nearly the same instant._ _

__Balam yelled, “He’s not Nahash, he’s Aza-” before Shane flung him like a football at Gibson._ _

__Gibson sidestepped the flying body and gestured sharply with one hand. The counter behind them creaked, then separated from the floor with a loud crunch before sailing towards them._ _

__Ryan dove and slid across the ground, only barely catching a glimpse of Shane taking the brunt of the impact. The sound of the wood and linoleum counter breaking apart around Shane was haunting, a mix of crashing, splintering noise and the grunt as all of the air was forced out of him._ _

__The temperature in the room spiked sharply, gathering power from both sides of the room physically pressing down on Ryan until he felt like he was trying to breath through water. He forced himself to his knees, some half-formed plan to get out of the building telling him to keep moving._ _

__The medallion under his shirt was burning so hot that he could feel it blister his skin._ _

__Through blurry, tearing eyes, he saw giant bat wings snap out from Gibson, their length taking up half the room._ _

Shane just sneered and threw _something_ at Gibson. 

__One of those wings swept around to shield Gibson, distracting Ryan from the second one that knocked him back down, flat on his face. He could feel grit scratch across his cheek and the hot burn of ripped skin._ _

__He had the inane thought that he really didn’t want to get a tetanus shot._ _

__“Is that the best you can do?” he heard Gibson ask. “The great Azazel, one of the last of the originals, too afraid to use his real power. Too afraid to reveal himself again.”_ _

__Ryan managed to roll onto his back, just in time to see Shane and Gibson come together in a brief but vicious tangle of blows that went too fast to comprehend. He could only catch glimpses of Gibson’s claws and teeth and the occasional splash of blood arcing away from them._ _

Shane still looked human. _Why?!_ Surely having claws or those weird wings would help in such a physical fight? 

__Between the suffocating blanket of power and the savage fighting going on before him, Ryan had completely forgotten about Balam._ _

__A hand wrapped around Ryan’s throat and lifted him until his toes barely touched the ground. He coughed and choked, instinctively clutching at the hand cutting off his air supply. Balam laughed at him, eyes black and shiny. He was one pitchfork away from being a Halloween demon costume._ _

__“Aeshma, I have the pet!” Balam shouted, grinning manically._ _

__He was still grinning when his head was torn from his body._ _

__Ryan would never forget the brief glimpse of ragged flesh and spine, the blood staining Shane’s fingers and nails._ _

__Or the thin smear of oil that flew towards Gibson. And was promptly eaten._ _

_He just...put him in his mouth. And swallowed._

__The body still holding him wobbled then fell forward. Before it could fall onto him, Gibson was the one grabbing him, pulling him away from Shane._ _

__Shane snarled, lips peeled back from flat teeth, his eyes still human and brown and all the more terrifying for it. He was a mess, covered in blood and cuts, his shirt hanging in tatters._ _

__The shock of the last few seconds finally melted away and Ryan began to struggle, throwing every ounce of strength he possessed into escaping the arm that was holding him to Gibson’s chest._ _

__Gibson ignored Ryan the same way he ignored Balam’s body, as if he was nothing more than an insect._ _

__“Just how much do you care for this human, hmm?” Gibson asked casually. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “Will you give it all up for his pathetic life?”_ _

__Shane’s snarl intensified. Light began to pulse and glow around his body, a steadily growing sense of power making Ryan’s head pound._ _

__“Ah, I don’t think so,” Gibson said, setting his claws against Ryan’s throat. “You pull that trick, I’ll still have enough time to rip Bergara’s throat out.”_ _

__The light flickered, Shane’s expression faltering into actual fear._ _

__“That’s what I thought.” Gibson sounded insufferably smug. “Allow me to repeat myself. Will you give it all up?”_ _

__And Shane wilted. His aggressive stance melted into something weary and resigned. He said a string of guttural, sibilant words in that language, the one that had to be demonic. Gibson answered in kind._ _

__Ryan was intensely aware of the claws at his throat and the arm that was like an steel bar across his chest. Each second passed in a crawl as the two demons discussed something with rapidfire words._ _

__They sounded like they were...debating?_ _

__Even though it was his own life on the line and fear was making his legs turn to jelly, Ryan swore that if Shane was getting into a pedantic argument with someone that wanted to kill him, he was going to find a way to kick his ass._ _

__After too long for his comfort, Gibson took his hand away from Ryan’s throat and gestured, saying a short, piercing phrase._ _

__A set of parchment paper and a long quill pen appeared in Shane’s hands._ _

__Ryan gasped as soon as he understood what he was seeing. That was a contract. An honest to God demon contract. And if Shane was the one signing it-_ _

__“Shane, no!” Ryan shouted, doing everything he could think of to get away from Gibson. It didn’t do any good. “Don’t! Whatever you’re doing, don’t!”_ _

__Gibson didn’t even bother trying to silence him._ _

__Shane stared down at the paper in his hands. He looked up at Ryan, his expression completely blank. Then he drew a symbol on the bottom of the page._ _

__Ryan could feel a shiver pass through Gibson._ _

__“Excellent,” the demon said brightly. “No hard feelings, you understand. I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do and all that.”_ _

__The contract and pen went up in flame, but Shane didn’t flinch. He didn’t take his eyes off Ryan. “Let him go.”_ _

__“Oh, of course. I would say ‘see you around’, but I guess I won’t, will I?” With those worrying words, Gibson shoved Ryan forward, straight towards Shane._ _

__Just as Ryan left Gibson’s reach, the demon snapped his fingers and giant, complicated runes flared into a circle around Shane and Ryan. These weren’t marked in soot, though. They were carved deep into the concrete floor._ _

__Dragging a foot across one of these wasn’t going to break them._ _

__Shane grabbed ahold of Ryan’s upper arm, but his attention was on Gibson. “What the fuck is this?” he growled._ _

__“I said I would spare Bergara,” Gibson said with a sly little smirk. “I didn’t say I would stop consuming all the young ones I can find. I can’t have you getting in my way. This should hold you for quite some time.” His smile widened. “And now that you know, there’s no point in me switching bodies or hiding. I find the idea very freeing. I’ve grown accustomed to this body. It suits me, don’t you think?”_ _

__If Gibson was going to start eating more demons, that meant there’d be more sacrificed humans. More deaths. And if the way Shane was glaring at the runes was any indication, they wouldn’t be getting out of this circle any time soon._ _

__“Gibson, please,” Ryan pleaded. He had to try. “Don’t kill people. You’re a lawyer, not a killer.”_ _

__With a little shrug, Gibson settled his wings behind himself. “You’re not wrong, Bergara. But there is something addicting about it, no? Literally holding someone’s life in my hand. Maybe I should have used the ritual sooner.”_ _

Ryan felt compelled to keep him talking, to try and learn _something_ from this disaster. “Why are you even doing all of this? What’s the point?” 

__For the first time, Gibson actually faltered. He sent Ryan a look that was almost scared before a mask of a smile fell over his features. “Somebody has to stir things up. It might as well be me. As lovely as it is to talk to you while you’re trapped like this, I must depart. Places to be, people to kill, that sort of thing.”_ _

__“Aeshma,” Shane began, a reverberating growl in his voice._ _

Gibson actually waved his hand, as if shooing away a fly. “48 hours, _Azazel_. And you know what happens when you break contracts. Bergara, it’s a pity that I won’t get a chance at your soul. It looks like it’d be a tasty snack. Ah well.” 

__There was a clap of sound, a rush of air, then Gibson was gone._ _

__A spark of memory came to Ryan, ‘soul’ echoing in his mind._ _

_“What if the demon ate Johnson’s soul?”_

_“That-that’s not possible.”_

_“Do we know that for sure?”_

The image of the demon- _Gibson_ \- that had attacked the station, her words light and mocking. 

_His bright, shiny, soul must be delicious._

_It’s a pity I won’t get a chance at your soul._

__“Shane?” Ryan asked for a long moment, staring at the spot where Gibson had been. “Demons can eat souls, can’t they?”_ _

__The hand around his arm, almost forgotten, tightened for a second. There was a pause that would have stretched into awkwardness if Ryan had had the energy to think of such things. Eventually, Shane said, “If you classify an aura as a soul. Then yes.”_ _

__“So when demons tell you they’re just feeding off your emotions?”_ _

__“Is that really important right now?”_ _

__Ryan turned towards Shane and met painfully familiar brown eyes. He said nothing._ _

__It was Shane who finally looked away. “Emotions are an extension of the soul.”_ _

__Ryan nodded, as if Shane had just confirmed something he already knew. But everything was just a terrible guess. “And any demon can do it. Can just- eat and eat until nothing is left.”_ _

__“Yes, but Ryan,” Shane said, almost desperate. “The soul grows back as long as there’s some left, it’s not a finite thing. It’s-”_ _

__“Renewable? Sustainable?”_ _

__Shane cringed._ _

__“Are we just fucking livestock to you, Shane?”_ _

__“Ryan, now is _not_ the time-”_ _

__With a little grunt of frustration, Ryan jerked his arm away and stepped towards the closest rune. Maybe, if he was lucky, it was only supposed to keep demons in. But when he waved his hand over the intricate carving, his hand was stopped mid-air. It felt like he was pressing against a wall._ _

__Of-fucking-course._ _

__“And you don’t take it all because why? Because of the same reason that Lucifer couldn’t tell me where she was from?”_ _

__“What?” Shane said sharply, stepping towards him. “What did Lucifer do?”_ _

__Ryan turned to stare at him. To take in the battered clothing, the wounds, and the still dripping blood that both of them were ignoring. Shane looked so fucking human._ _

__“You’re not a demon, are you?”_ _

__Shane went still, that inhuman blankness that Ryan was beginning to realize marked a strong emotion that Shane didn’t want to share. “Of course I’m a demon.”_ _

“Not _just_ a demon.” 

__With infinite slowness, as if he thought Ryan wouldn’t notice if he did it gradually enough, Shane shook his head once._ _

“And _something_ doesn’t like when you talk about it. Or when souls are eaten.” 

__Another slow shake of Shane’s head._ _

__“You told me ‘Nahash’ was more of a title, didn’t you? It’s not your original name. ”_ _

__This time it was a faint nod._ _

__It was almost comforting to see Shane look so unsure of himself under that stillness._ _

__Ryan took a deep breath._ _

__He almost couldn’t say the words. But he had to know._ _

__“Azazel is not a demon’s name.”_ _

__Shane closed his eyes._ _

__Those weird, spider-like, blackened wings appeared behind him. One curved towards Ryan, stopping within a foot of him. So he reached out._ _

It _was_ bone. Charred and cracked. It felt brittle under his fingers. He didn’t know much about birds or their skeletal structure. But these wings. They looked like the bones of bird wings. That had been completely stripped of muscle and feather, burnt in a horrible fire until only charred bone remained. 

__He thought of the painting at Lucifer’s mansion. The depiction of the Angel of Mons._ _

_The opposite sides of the same coin._

__Shane had just told him, not even fifteen minutes ago, that he had been at the Battle of Mons. The battle responsible for outing the supernatural world to humanity. And what better reason to reveal oneself, to stop a battle, than watching the death of a sister?_ _

Maybe when this was all over, if he even survived, Ryan would have a mental breakdown. He would rant and rave and cry and try desperately to come to terms with the fact that so much more in the universe was _real_ than he had ever thought. 

__But for now. For now, he just laughed. He laughed because he was stuck in a cage of runes meant to trap a demon while another demon went off to murder innocent people. Because he was stuck in that cage with a headless body. A body that had been made headless by his partner._ _

__His partner that he was in love with._ _

__He laughed because he didn't know which was worse. That the Angel of Mons, currently one of the most iconic figures of the Christian world, was actually a fallen angel._ _

__Or that he was in love with that fallen angel._ _

__“You’re an an-”_ _

__Shane’s hand was warm on his mouth. “Don’t,” Shane said. Begged. “Please. Don’t. I don’t know what will happen if you say it out loud.”_ _

There couldn’t be many things that a _fallen angel_ was afraid of. 

__Funny._ _

__Ryan had never thought to be afraid of God before._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was a bit of a late update. But the good news is that I'm going on a much needed vacation next week! I'm going to get so much writing done.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support! It means so much to me.


	10. Chapter 10

In the slivers of light that Ryan could inexplicably see with, Shane looked terrible, his clothes torn and dirty. The blood tracking down his face dripped at a sluggish but continual pace. The blood from his torso had soaked into his shirt at such an extent that most of it clung wetly to his body. If he had been human, that amount of blood would have been a major cause for concern. As it was, it was still worrying. 

They had been stuck here for maybe fifteen minutes and Shane already looked like he was about to snap. It was easier to focus on Shane's physical health than think about the fact the he was trapped in a circle with dead body and an an-

_Just. Don’t think about it._

He had tried to use his phone multiple times, but each time he sent a text or called someone, nothing connected. It was like they were in their own little world in the circle. Shane hadn’t even bothered with his phone, so Ryan put his away after the sixth failed attempt. 

For awhile, he distracted himself by watching Shane pace back and forth. His partner couldn’t seem to decide how to act. Sometimes, when it was clear he studying the runes, he would prowl around the inside of the ring like a caged tiger. It was a gait that was pure strength and grace, a dangerous glint to his eyes as he muttered to himself in a low continuous mutter that verged on a rumbling growl.

It was odd to see Shane look so in control of his body. Ryan had seen moments where Shane _could_ be graceful, usually when arresting suspects or, oddly enough, when playing pool. Most of the time, though, Shane seemed to slouch through life in an exaggerated collection of limbs that he played up for laughs. 

This predatory stalking was not something _Shane Madej_ would do. 

Other times, he would glance at Ryan and become Shane again, as if he suddenly remembered that Ryan was there. The animal grace would falter into agitated pacing and he'd start running his hands through his hair in irritation. It was a common, familiar gesture that Ryan had seen many times before. Usually at work. 

Realizing that he was beginning to know the difference between Nahash- _Azazel? Which was the right one?_ \- and Shane, even though they were the same freaking person, was just one more in a pile of epiphanies that he didn't have the time or luxury to examine. 

“I thought you said circles couldn't hold you.”

Shane didn't stop, but there was a slight hesitation in his movements, as if he was trying to figure out how to answer. 

Apparently he had decided to double down on acting human, because he grimaced and sent an annoyed, 'I can't believe you just called me out,’ look at Ryan.

It was such a normal Shane expression that Ryan relaxed despite himself.

“Regular circles can’t,” Shane said. He paused long enough to tap the edge of a particularly intricate rune with his foot. “This one is meant specifically for, uh. My kind of demons.”

“How would Gibson even know something like that?” Ryan asked, looking at the circle with new interest. It wasn’t something he thought he could ever duplicate, but it was fascinating to learn that there was ways to trap angels. 

Maybe if he thought about it in terms of learning about a new species, he wouldn’t freak out as much. 

Shane’s eyes flashed green before he looked away. He shrugged. “Gibson has been around for a long time. He could have stumbled across it.”

Ryan wasn’t sure how he knew, but Shane was lying. That may have been why his next words came out harsher than he intended. “So we’re stuck? We’re just going to stand around until some hobo stumbles in here to take a piss?”

“I’m working on it,” Shane shot back. “Do you have any idea how much energy I’ve used lately?”

“What happened to being one of two demons that could destroy the world? I'm assuming you meant you and Lucifer, since you were being such a dick about it. Or was that another lie?”

Shane whirled and pointed one clawed finger at him. “Yes, good idea, Ryan, piss off the demon you’re trapped in a circle with.” 

“Well whose fault is it that I’m stuck in here?”

“Yours!” Shane practically shouted, taking one step nearer. He was doing a great impression of a human that was about to lose it. “If you had just stayed home, none of this would have happened. I could have gotten the information I needed and faced Gibson on my own, in a controlled environment.”

Ryan marched forward, just so he could do some pointing of his own. Only his anger meant that he somehow found the nerves to physically poke at Shane. He pushed away any feelings of guilt when his finger skidded through still wet blood. “That was your plan? Face him alone? What happened to always waiting for backup, Shane?”

He took some kind of perverse pleasure in the way Shane was clenching his jaw. 

A destructive urge made him continue. “From what I saw, he was kicking your ass. He would have probably wiped the floor with you if I hadn’t been here to distract him.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ryan had the horrible feeling that he had made a mistake. He wasn't stupid. There had to have been a reason why Shane had let Gibson get so many hits in. He just didn't know what that reason was. 

Other than his claws, Shane still looked completely human. 

Somehow, that made it all the more intimidating when he leaned forward and murmured, “There is so much you don’t know. The only reason you’re still alive is because of me. Don’t forget that.”

Ryan’s fear, tired and sluggish as it was, spiked. 

He could actually see the way that sharpened Shane’s attention. 

_Fuck, stop being afraid, stop it-_

Shane deliberately softened his features and reached towards him slowly, suddenly contrite. “I’m sorry. That was a really shitty thing to say.”

Ryan glanced away, telling himself to take the apology and stop trying to pick a fight. It wasn’t going to do either of them any good. 

He wasn’t expecting it when fingers devoid of claws gently brushed down the side of his face, narrowly avoiding the cuts and abrasions there. “That must be painful.”

Honestly, Ryan had forgotten that he had been hurt. The pain was secondary to everything else that was going on. He shrugged, feeling awkward with how much he wanted to lean into Shane’s hand. It felt weirdly hypocritical to seek comfort from him after provoking him. “You’re the one that looks like you're about to bleed out.”

“I’ll be fine,” Shane said absently as he started to tear a strip off of his own shirt. It didn’t really do anything to change the overall appearance of his clothing, since it was already so tattered. 

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Hush,” was the distracted reply as Shane started to gently wipe blood off of Ryan’s face. “You look like you took a header off your bike. Like you’re twelve.”

“Did you just shush me? Are you for-” Ryan interrupted himself and tried to lean away. “I know you’ve taken first responder classes, idiot. Stop getting your blood near my open cuts.”

The firm hand wrapped around the back of his skull kept him from moving. “I’m insulted that you think I’d let this body contract anything.” Shane threw him a quick smirk, still oddly human despite his words. 

Ryan let out a deep sigh and decided to just stand there and let it happen. His partner was acting really weird. Not that he blamed him. If this made Shane feel better, then whatever. It was better than the pacing, at least. 

There was silence for awhile, almost companionable. He was fascinated to realize that a couple of the gashes that had been slashed across Shane’s chest were now just thin, angry, red lines. “Being able to heal like that must be really handy,” he mused, more to say something than to start a conversation. “Too bad you can’t fix me like that.”

Shane’s movements slowed. He met Ryan’s eyes for one brief moment, then deliberately focused back on the side of his face. “I could, actually,” he said carefully. “If I was in you.”

The words buzzed around Ryan’s brain for a long, confused second. “That is the weirdest pick up line I have ever heard.” He ducked away from Shane’s hands, though he didn’t take a step back. “What does that even-Just. What?”

“If I left this body,” Shane explained, one hand outstretched, the bloody strip of cloth still clutched between his fingers. “And went into yours. I might not be able to break the runes right away, but I could heal you.”

“You’re not possessing me to heal a couple of fucking scrapes!” Ryan actually shouted once the understanding dawned, high-pitched and wide-eyed. “The _fuck_ is wrong with you?!”

“Right. Forget I said anything.”

Ryan watched, shocked beyond all belief as Shane lowered his arm and turned away, something like bitter disappointment crossing his face. 

“Why don’t you just do it anyways? Since I guess you don’t need permission.” 

It took Ryan a second to realize _he_ was the one that had said that. Apparently he was more upset than he had thought by Lucifer’s little revelation from earlier in the day.

Shane froze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve already fucked around with my memories, right? What’s stopping you now? Because it obviously isn’t common fucking decency.”

“How-”

“Lucifer told me.”

Ryan expected excuses and maybe some defensive posturing. What he got was slumped shoulders and a resigned sigh. “It’s different,” Shane said tiredly. “With clear permission, I could do more. I…Well. Changing recent memories is surface level stuff. Don’t really need to be all that deep.”

“I’m not a fucking sock,” Ryan muttered, his growing anger unsatisfied with a Shane that wouldn’t fight back. 

“I was just trying to protect you.”

“Look how well that worked out.”

Shane didn’t say anything. He just stared morosely at the runes on the floor. It wasn’t like looking at a kicked puppy. It was like looking at a puppy that had been abandoned to die in the rain. 

It was probably selfish of him. In fact, he knew it was selfish of him. But Ryan didn’t feel like indulging in this kind of overwrought, dramatic behavior. They had more important things to worry about than whether or not Shane was feeling appreciated or whatever. 

He was aware that he probably being manipulated, since Ryan didn’t really think a _fallen angel_ would care too much about what a human thought, but he was fed up with the entire situation. 

“Fine,” he practically spat. “You want in here?” He spread his arms, ignoring the pounding of his heart. “Have at it. I give you permission or what-the-fuck-ever.”

Shane turned. Stared at him. Then shook his head and went back to contemplating the runes. 

Ryan made a short, frustrated noise of irritation and growing fear.

Because he had an idea. 

It was an idea that went against everything he had ever believed about himself and his own boundaries. About what he had always thought he would and would not be willing to do. 

An idea that would deliberately violate the sanctity of his emotions and aura. And if Shane was to be believed, his very soul. 

The weight of inevitability gave him the strength to force his voice into a semblance of belligerence when he asked, “When was the last time you fed?”

The fact that he didn’t stumble over the word was a miracle. 

Wait. Maybe he shouldn’t think about miracles.

Ryan shied away from that terrifying thought to focus on something just as bad. 

Shane pushed his hand forward, trying to press beyond the circle. His palm went flat, stopped by nothing. He obviously wasn’t paying attention to Ryan anymore when he said, “The night of the curse.”

Oh. Right. Well, Shane had already fed off of him before. 

That made it easier for Ryan to say, “Scare me.”

There was a short pause, then Shane glanced at him. “What?”

“Come on, _Nahash_ ,” Ryan said, almost tauntingly. “You need strength? Prime meal, right here.”

He felt like he was going to shake out of his fucking Nikes. 

Shane didn’t look nearly as surprised as he should have by Ryan’s offer. But then, they had known each other for four years. And Shane had known _humanity_ for even longer. Humans had a long history of being irritatingly self-sacrificing at times. 

Hell, this was monster movie 101. Monster _romance_ movie, even, which annoyed Ryan to no end. But it wasn’t like there were a ton of options right now. Ryan was just doing what he thought was the most logical thing to get them out of there. He ignored the fact that he was casting himself as the helpless love interest. 

The answer to his statement was rather abrupt. “No.”

“Now is not the time for you to be a stubborn ass,” Ryan said, doing his best to keep his frustration tightly controlled. 

Although, maybe control was the opposite what he should be doing right now. 

“You need energy. Not unless you think you can break this circle in the next five minutes, put on your big boy demon pants and fucking scare me.”

Shane squared his shoulders, refusing to look at him. Ryan recognized it as his stance for when he was at his most stubborn. Wishing he didn’t have to admit it , Ryan’s voice went quiet. “I don't want to be stuck in here like a rat in a trap for whatever Gibson has planned. I barely survived one fight between two demons. What if he comes back? I doubt I’d survive a second fight.”

 _That_ made Shane turn to him, a conflicted, worried look twisting his face under the drying blood. “I promised myself I would never intentionally feed off you. I promised _you_ , even if I never actually said it to you.”

“That’s not even how promises work.”

“Ryan-”

“Come on, big guy” Ryan said, taking a few unsteady steps towards Shane. “What’s a little fear between friends?”

Shane stared at him for a long moment, searching for something. “You aren’t worried about your aura being your soul?

“Are you kidding?” He spread his hands in a short, emphatic gesture. “Of course I’m fucking worried. But you fed off me once and it didn’t affect me.” That he knew of. “Renewable energy, right? I’m like solar power.”

The fact that Shane didn’t even acknowledge the joke was a little disconcerting. “If I take it too far?”

“I trust you.”

It was a special brand of cognitive dissonance to tell a demon that he trusted them. But this was _Shane_. He had trusted the man since he met him. 

Shane closed his eyes. “Don’t fight it.”

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows together, confused. “What-”

The purely human aura that Shane had been meticulously maintaining since he had known Ryan was in the room simply disappeared as if it had never been there. Like a tidal wave, primal fear rose up and choked Ryan, making his eyes widen and his heart pound against his ribs before he could even register what was happening. 

Without his permission, ancient human instinct and hard-won training rose up to combat the fear. He tried to push those instincts to the side, to embrace the fear, but allowing himself to fall into that emotion was so much harder than he would have ever anticipated. His body, his psyche, didn’t want to fall victim to the predator in front of him. Eons of evolutionary survival told him to run, to fight, to do _something_. Not accept it.

His fight or flight instinct had always been sharp, primed towards fight but just as willing to turn to flight when the situation called for it. 

Giving in to the fear was like trying to convince himself to breathe under water. 

“Tricks aren’t going to cut it,” Ryan gasped out in a shaking voice.

Soft brown eyes narrowed. 

The feeling of fear in the area intensified, making his legs buckle under him. Pain flared when his knees hit the ground. 

Shane disappeared.

Actual worry, not the contrived thing from a demon’s aura manipulation, rose in Ryan. He whirled around on his knees, desperately searching. He couldn’t see anyone with him. There was only the circle of intricate runes, the headless body, and splashes of blood.

Then he heard a whisper behind his shoulder. 

He spun in that direction, but there was nothing there.

Another whisper, overlapping the first. A third. A fourth. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, the words jumbled and incomplete. But they sounded like they were in pain, the last harsh gasp before the throat gave out. 

“Kinda cool, actually,” he said without thinking. Then he realized what he was doing, trying to fight fear with humor, and he swore. “Fuck, sorry, I’m trying.”

There was a low, rumbling chuckle just behind him, then it felt like a claw drug itself lightly across the back of his neck. 

Ryan tried to leap to his feet, but some force kept him on his knees. The best he could do was awkwardly jerk forward, away from the phantom touch. 

“Ryan,” a voice cooed. “You’re delicious.” It sounded like Shane’s voice, but. Not. Like someone doing a very good job of imitating Shane, but not quite succeeding. It was more eerie than it had any right to be. Then a woman’s voice. “Why do you think so many of us find you interesting?”

An unknown man said, “Like fine wine on the tongue.”

“You’re nothing more than a meal.” Another woman.

A thought dawned in Ryan’s head and he had no idea if it was his own or if it had been placed there. But what if these weren't just random voices? What if these were the voices of people Shane had _eaten_? Were these the last vestiges of devoured souls? 

What had been a creepy, if nifty, trick, abruptly became something to engender gut-wrenching fear and disgust. 

“How easily you trust me,” came the voice that was Shane’s and not, right behind him. Hot breath hit his ear and ghosted across his neck. “How many times did you agree to something I said? How often did you let your guard down around your safe, human friend?”

It was a thought that had occurred to Ryan more than once since he had found out Shane was a demon. They had worked together for years, been on more stake-outs than could be counted. How many times had he absentmindedly nodded along to whatever his partner was saying? It would have been so easy for a demon, an entity known for manipulative and slippery language, to trick him into something. 

Something terrible. Something he wouldn’t even realize was wrong until after the fact. 

_Fuck, he had witnessed Shane torture a man and he barely even cared._

Silent tears gathered in the corner of his eyes. 

That familiar and not familiar voice made a noise that could only be described as a moan. The skittery, itching sensation of a thousand spiders crawled over Ryan’s skin, and he couldn’t help the low groan of fear. 

A sharp noise, like a blade being thrown, echoed across the room, and Ryan choked back a yelp. Claws pin-pricked their way up both of his arms but when he wildly looked around, there was no one there.

The voice turned deep and ugly, power reverberating under it. A common trick that even the lowest demon could pull and normally Ryan thought it was a little cliche. But right now, in this moment, it sent a shiver down his spine. “Stop fighting this, Ryan.”

His name echoed far past what should have been physically possible in the room. It ended in a crescendo that left it hard for him to think. Ryan shook his head frantically, not even aware he had been fighting it. 

And yet, he realized that he wasn’t terrified. Not to the point that would make him break down or go catatonic. Ryan was scared, but it was the kind of fear he would get from going to a particularly good haunted house. It was a controlled, safe fear, almost a rush. It was nothing like what he had experienced from the curse. 

He knew, with utter certainty, that Shane wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Even if his partner was saying things that were hard to face, nothing _bad_ was going to happen to him. 

An angry, annoyed snarl from his left.

Suddenly, Shane was kneeling right in front of him, his face a mask of twisted frustration. He reached down and grabbed Ryan’s wrist in a harsh grip before he could react.

Ryan got the feeling Shane had just decided to up the ante. 

Black, glittering, living oil that he _shouldn’t have been able to see_ seeped out of Shane’s skin and twined its way up Ryan's arm like a snake. And burrowed its way into the crook of his elbow. 

Ryan screamed. 

He threw himself backwards, desperate to get away, to break the connection between them, but Shane’s hand was like steel. Actual terror started to rise up in him, his thoughts gibbering in panic. 

Then he couldn’t move. 

The fear in the room, the powerful manipulation that Shane had been exuding, it all drained away. It wasn’t needed anymore. 

Because the thing that Ryan feared most was already in him. 

Shane smiled at him. It was a normal expression. Human. 

Empty. 

The thing that had been running the body, the thing that had been Shane for over twenty years, was barely still touching the tips of his fingers where he was holding onto Ryan. The rest of it, the rest of the _demon_ was spreading through Ryan like a sickness, a fever that lit up nerve endings throughout his body. 

Ryan wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, to sob and plead, whatever he could just to get it _out_ of him, _please, please, please_ -

He couldn’t even control his own breathing any more. 

Without any direction on his part, his left hand rose up. Turned and flexed. There were long, black claws tipping his fingers. 

_I could do whatever I wanted with your body._

Shane’s lips moved with each word, but Ryan heard the sentence in his head. 

In his mind. 

But that wasn’t his voice. That wasn’t Ryan’s inner voice, the one that he had lived with for as long as he could remember, the one that was _him_. 

It wasn’t Shane’s voice, either. It was different. Alien. Words but not. As if each sentence wasn’t entirely being delivered via language but by some combination of concept and emotion. 

Ryan’s hand curled and moved towards his eye, until the sharp point of one of those claws rested ever so delicately against the skin of his eyelid. 

_I could make you pluck your own eyeball out. Pop it like a grape._

For one horrible second, Ryan thought he could actually feel it. Pressure around his eye socket, intense ripping, tearing pain behind his eye, his eyelids trying automatically to close but unable to. Darkness.

_I could make you bite your tongue off. Make you choke on your own blood._

Sharp teeth that didn’t belong in his mouth closed down on the muscle, digging until it almost became too painful. One quick movement and he’d lose a full inch of tongue. 

_I have to admit_ , the voice purred, feeling like it was curling sinuously through his thoughts. _I could have gotten us out in a few hours anyways. But I am greedy. And you are so very, very tempting_.

A thin whine worked its way from Ryan’s throat, the entity controlling him doing nothing to stop it. 

_Ah, Ryan. Gourmet indeed_. 

Shane leaned forward, his free hand coming up to his caress the side of Ryan’s neck, each movement jerking and wooden. 

_Be careful who you give blanket permission to. You never know what might take advantage_.

Despite himself, some tiny part of Ryan’s mind was fascinated by what was going on. He had always been sickly curious about what it was like to be possessed by a demon. 

He could actually _feel_ the mix of frustration and amusement that caused. 

Shane or Nahash or whatever was inside of him was actually amused that he wasn’t completely drowning in horror, despite the very real threats. 

That was. Well. Weird. 

But when he thought about it, he realized he still wasn’t terrified. Other than the instinctual reaction from witnessing a demon disappear into his skin, his fear felt weirdly distant. When Shane had started talking, he had been reminded that this wasn’t some strange demon come to possess him. It was _his_ demon. He didn’t lie to himself and think that this was the worst that Shane could do. Fuck, with how old he was, this probably barely scratched the surface of horrible things that Shane could get up to. 

Yet, at his core, Ryan truly believed that Shane wouldn’t hurt him. 

He had faith in him. 

Maybe he was finally going crazy. Maybe he had finally cracked. But Ryan was steadily growing more mentally tired than scared. And he just wanted Shane. Not the stiff, nearly abandoned body in front of him, not the demon Nahash or the angel Azazel. Just Shane. His best friend, his partner, the man or being or _whatever_ that he was in love with. 

_Oh, neshama sheli_.

It was an inner sigh, a term of endearment Ryan didn’t know but understood anyways. Like slowly melting ice, the fear dripped out of him, leaving him shaking and feeling wrung out. His pounding heart started to slow to a normal pace instantly. 

The claws vanished from his fingers and the sharp teeth in his mouth were no more. And that living shadow slowly withdrew from his mind and body. Ryan watched, verging on numb, as black oil unwound itself from his arm and flowed back into Shane. 

There was already more life in Shane’s expression when he leaned forward and gently caressed the side of Ryan’s face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. The sentiment sounded honest, but there was a warm, happy expression to his eyes that made him look more soft and adoring than apologetic. 

Christ, the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach. 

Dismissing the absurdity of his thoughts, Ryan reached up to feel his own cheek, surprised that his muscles obeyed him. There was dried blood that flaked off when he touched it, but no more cuts or friction burn. 

He had been so focused on the fucking _claws_ on his fingers that he hadn’t noticed what else Shane had gotten up to while in his body. 

“You look better,” he rasped, overly aware of how tired and dry his throat was. He felt like he had just run a marathon.

Shane glanced down at his torso, taking in the mostly healed cuts and bruises. With the dried blood still staining his shirt, he looked like an extra in a slasher film. He smirked, “Too bad it’s not Halloween. I’m already dressed for it.”

Ryan smiled, a small reluctant quirk of his lips. “Tell me you can get us out of here now.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” was the casual reply, as if it didn’t matter. He resisted the urge to smack his partner. 

Shane closed his eyes in a frown of concentration. He gestured once with one hand. 

The runes flared, an odd, buzzing whine building in volume around them. Ryan could see thin fissures start to form in the edge of the closest rune. He held his breath, watching the line of one crack grow and grow.

It didn’t reach the outer edge. 

Shane slumped forward and sighed, the noise cutting off. He rubbed at his forehead tiredly. “It’s gonna take a few more tries. Maybe another couple hours.”

Ryan sank down until he was resting on his heels, kneeling in a more comfortable position. He didn’t want to wait that long. Despite his exhaustion, he itched to get out there and look for Gibson. “But you fed.” _Off me_. 

“And it helped, don’t get me wrong, but you’re just one human.”

“Dick,” Ryan said, too tired to be more than mildly offended. “You were acting like fucking Tigger had gotten into some good crack when you saved me from the curse.”

“Yeah, but you were actually scared then. Mortally afraid. It was, uh, intense. ”

Ryan grimaced. “Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Hey.” Shane placed one hand on Ryan’s, waiting until their eyes met. “Don’t apologize for not being afraid of me.”

The smile that Ryan felt cross his face was far too soft and loving for the situation they were in. There was a fucking body next to them, for fuck’s sake. He made himself look away. “There’s no way you could speed it up? Not to harp on this, but you’re an-” He took a deep breath. “You’re not a regular demon. Shouldn’t you be like, super powerful? ‘Fear not’ and all that?”

Shane snorted at that, but didn’t answer for a long moment. He stared at Ryan for a while, studying him with a heavily intense gaze. He looked like he was trying to make a decision. “When I said this circle was meant for my kind of demon,” he said slowly. “I mean it was made specifically for me. That makes it more powerful than most.”

Ryan studied the runes with renewed interest, for all the good it would do him. “Really? How?”

Shane pointed towards one rune that looked particularly complicated. “That’s my name.”

“It looks kind of like a crazy lobster,” Ryan said after a moment.

“Thanks,” Shane drawled sardonically. 

“No, seriously, there’s the claws and if you squint-”

“I don’t make fun of your name.”

“Maybe a lobster with a hat.”

“Ryan.”

“Really, I don’t know how you get ‘Azazel’ out of that.”

Shane sighed, though he looked like he was trying to fight a smile. It almost hid the way he was eyeing Ryan. “I could feed off you again.”

Ryan paused, thrown from his plan to ask Shane what the name actually meant. A prickle of awareness ran down his spine. “Um.” He tried not to think of the weak, ragged auras he had seen through the second sight glasses of incubus thralls. “Isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

Casually easing closer, Shane shook his head. “Only if I continually fed off one emotion.”

“I admit to being pretty mad at you, but I don’t really want you manipulating me into hating you,” Ryan said carefully, uncomfortable with the very idea. And still trying not to think about the correlation between auras and souls. 

“No,” Shane said. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Then what-”

“Do you really want to get out of here sooner?”

There was something disturbingly eager about the question. Shane had actually straightened, his head back and muscles tight. 

_Like an animal about to pounce_.

Ryan hesitantly admitted, “Yes. We need to track down Gibson.”

“Do you trust me?”

“...Not when you say it like that.”

“Ryan. Do you trust me?”

It had already been proven that he trusted Shane far more than he should. “Yes.”

Shane _swayed_ closer, oddly graceful for all that he was on his knees, mirroring Ryan’s position. “I like fear,” he said casually.“Anger, too. Despair will do in a pinch. But demons have those emotions. We know them. You know what I find fascinating?”

“I…”

“That cruel little emotion that mortal species so often find themselves slaves to.”

Ryan swallowed. 

Shane tilted his head. Let his expression go soft and caring as he relaxed his posture. Then he said three little words quietly, intimately. Too intimately. “I _am_ sorry.”

“What-”

“I know every dirty thought you’ve ever had about me.”

It was said so smoothly that Ryan almost didn’t register the words. Then he choked on his own saliva, coughing and hacking to clear his throat, his mind a continuous buzz of wordless shock. 

Shane watched him, waiting patiently for him to catch his breath. 

“You _what_?” Ryan finally managed to say. “What the fuck?”

The smile that got him was warm and just a touch teasing. And oddly hesitant. Shane cleared his throat, an honest to God blush coloring his cheeks before he leaned forward and whispered, “Every time, Ryan. Every single time you looked at me and imagined all the things you could do to me, all the things I could do to you, I knew about it.”

Ryan knew that he probably looked like a particularly idiotic fish, but he couldn’t stop staring, his mouth hanging open. 

Then it dawned on him. Shane was a demon. And he had already said that all demons could be incubi. Lust, specifically the kind of lust that led to obsession, was a powerful emotion. 

If Shane had started out like an incubus from a club, all smooth words and sinful, arrogant manner, using power to manipulate his aura, it wouldn’t have affected Ryan. Anyone in the PIU that might have to deal with incubi on a regular basis were trained on how to keep their focus around beings whose every movement exuded seduction. And Ryan had always been so afraid of demons to begin with that, while he could acknowledge that some demons were surprisingly attractive, incubi were scarier than sexy. 

But in that moment, there was nothing about Shane that looked demonic. He looked like a normal human man trying to seduce a romantic partner. Eager and a little embarrassed. Nearly shy. Flustered, but determined to say potentially humiliating things.

It was an attitude that Ryan had no defenses against. Shane awkwardly trying to say sexy things was a fantasy Ryan had had for years, before he had known he was a demon.

A human Shane talking dirty was exactly the picture of the man in front of him. It was something Ryan was helpless against.

“I-”

Shane slowly reached for Ryan’s hand, his fingertips dragging gently across skin. He didn’t try to hold it, he just began to lightly caress the back of Ryan’s wrist and hand in shapeless patterns. The ticklish touch sent shivers through him. There was no way he could have moved his hand. 

“The second time we studied together, for that terrible class on basic law?” Shane’s voice wavered slightly, like he had to force himself to say these things. He dropped his eyes and ducked his head, as if he couldn’t quite meet Ryan’s gaze. It was a masterful performance. “You wanted me to do _something_. I didn’t know you well enough then to figure out exactly what you were fantasizing about, but whatever it was, it was intense. My guess? You wanted me to get on my knees, right there in that little library room, and choke on your cock.”

Ryan’s breath stuttered. He could feel the blush all the way down to his chest. Now _he_ was the one who couldn't quite raise his eyes. It wasn't like he even remembered that particular instance, but he could imagine it well enough. 

“Shane,” he managed to say, proud of himself for sounding more scandalized than flustered. “Lust? Really? We're not having sex next to a fucking body.”

A quick flash of teeth as Shane smiled, his cheeks still stained red. “What, that isn’t on your sex bucket list? Mile high club, national forest, museum, next to a dead body?”

For one second, Ryan completely forgot what Shane was trying to do, a fit of familiar exasperation making him laugh and wheeze, “Shane! The fuck is wrong with you?” It was such a _Shane_ joke, an inappropriate joke in an inappropriate situation, that he ended up relaxing whatever guard he’d had. 

Shane’s hand left Ryan’s arm to skim across his shoulder and caress around the side of his neck, fingers warm and long. “Who said anything about having sex?” Shane asked, oh-so-innocently. “All I’m doing is making you want it.”

Before Ryan could form a reply, Shane used his hand to guide him forward at the same time as he leaned closer, whispering into Ryan’s ear. Shane’s lips brushed against his earlobe, voice low and wicked, but still utterly human. “Just how much can you take before you’re begging for it, body be damned?”

It would have taken a stronger man than him not to shiver, but Ryan was more confused than turned on. Yes, he had fantasized about Shane. That wasn’t exactly a secret. But lust was, by itself, a neutral emotion. A physical urge that occupied brief and occasional thoughts. And between people that genuinely cared for each other? It was as positive an emotion as any other form of happiness. In order to feed off lust, demons had to taint it with something else, if only by a fraction. Anger, fear, shame, jealousy; all were viable. 

But Ryan wasn’t exactly feeling any of those things in regards to Shane at the moment. Not mixed with lust, anyways. And he didn’t think embarrassment really counted. 

“This isn’t-”

“You want me to fuck you,” Shane said casually, practically dismissive. It was a simple statement of fact that didn’t need to be discussed. 

Ryan made some kind of noise that he couldn’t even interpret himself, but Shane just continued, tone thoughtful and still distractingly low. “But that’s not the fantasy you’re ashamed of, is it? That’s not the one that makes you come faster than any other, that makes you squirm in guilt afterwards.”

“I don’t-” Ryan’s voice broke as tension built, a mix of fear and curiosity. 

“It would be an understatement to say that you want to fuck me. You want,” Shane’s voice dropped into a husky, rough, stil human growl. “To _break_ me. To fold me in half and pound your cock into my ass until I’m screaming from it. You’ve thought about it, my legs over your shoulders, pushing down until I can barely breathe. How _tight_ I would be. It’s not a particularly gentle, loving fantasy, is it?”

Something like dread and hot, visceral shame flooded Ryan, making his breath catch in his throat. He distantly realized he was shaking. There was no way Shane could have known, he barely even acknowledged it himself, it wasn’t something he thought about often-

His desperate, guilty thoughts did nothing to stop his dick from slowly growing hard.

Shane drew back enough to meet Ryan’s eyes. His mouth was parted, as if he had been panting and his expression was wild with need. Ryan knew it had to be an act, but it was such a good performance of a man on the edge of losing it from lust that he drank in the sight, unable to look away. It felt like a dream when Shane murmured, “This body has never been fucked. Virgin territory, yours for the taking.” He seemed to drift closer, until he was too close to focus on, his lips brushing against Ryan’s. “Hold me down and make me take it. I’ll even struggle a little, just enough to make it feel good.”

Ryan pulled back and shook his head, forcing himself to speak through a throat that felt too thick with saliva. “No, I would never actually-”

Speaking over him, his words dropping like lead weights into Ryan’s mind, Shane said, “You like the idea, don’t you? Fucking a demon? Knowing I wouldn’t do anything to stop you from making it as rough as you wanted, even though I could rip you into pieces.”

The whimper that caused sounded pained. 

Shane’s attention sharpened, his eyes going black and green, the slit pupils so dilated they looked round. The feel of magic rising, of something manipulating his emotions until mad, desperate desire overran his senses was so blatant that even a magic-blind civilian would have noticed it. 

Ryan did nothing to stop it. 

“You _like_ that I’m a demon,” Shane said, sounding genuinely astounded. He blinked rapidly, his eyes darting back and forth as he took in Ryan’s form, obviously making connections in his head. His surprised smile turned wicked and cruelly pleased. “Oh Ryan,” he breathed, quietly delighted. “You kinky fucker.”

Quickly looking away, Ryan tried to get to his feet, humiliation and guilt making his face burn dully. 

The hand that had never left his throat was swiftly wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers implacable as steel bonds as they kept him from moving. Claws that had previously always been gentle now jabbed into his skin, little points of pain. Ryan gasped, the sensation sending a thrill throughout his body. 

He refused to look up. 

“I was teasing you about the horns,” Shane purred, all of the human affectations falling away one by one. There was nothing hesitant about him now. He was all dark temptation and sinful confidence. “I thought the demon porn was just curiosity. But no. No, you think it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, don’t you?”

Shame slid through him, making Ryan squirm in Shane’s grasp, unable to hold back the faint groan. This one didn’t sound like a groan of pain. 

A claw pricked his chin, forcing his head up. “Ryan, look at me,” Shane murmured, an echo under the words. It was that stupid trick that even the weakest demon could pull off. Ryan usually found it pretentious and cliche. But here, in these circumstances, hearing Shane’s words double and reverberate with power made him shake, helpless against it. 

Ryan met those poisonously green eyes, feeling like prey before a predator. He was so hard that it was all he could do not to reach down and touch himself, just to relieve some of the pressure. 

Ram’s horns swept back from Shane’s hairline, dark and ridged. But what drew Ryan’s eye was how Shane tilted his head back and parted his lips, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. And a long, round, forked tongue that appeared for a brief second. 

“The tongue is exotic, isn’t it?”

Ryan jerked back, forcing his neck farther onto the claws behind him, but he barely noticed. He hadn’t even known he was staring. 

“You want to know what it feels like, don’t you? What it tastes like.” Shane deliberately licked the middle finger of his free hand, his tongue far more agile than a snake’s actually was. It wrapped around his fingertip, shockingly pink against the dark claw. 

Shane blinked once, his expression going downright coquettish. “Like what you see? Your favorite fetish, right here for the taking. Everything you ever fantasized about.”

Horror dawned on Ryan. No, this wasn’t right, this-

“Your own personal demon to play with, willing to do anything you asked.”

Ryan could feel the blood drain from his face. 

When Shane had first started this, whatever _this_ was, Ryan had been embarrassed and certain he'd never be able to look Shane in the eye ever again, but it hadn’t been terrible. It had been bearable, something he could withstand because he told himself it was feeding Shane so that they could get out of there quicker. Because while an idle fantasy about being too rough while fucking Shane was not something he had wanted anyone to know about it, he was confident that Shane knew he would have never tried to act on it. It was just a particularly dirty daydream.

But this. This was wrong. Unforgivable. This was not something he had ever wanted to realize about himself. 

He had never meant to fetishize Shane. Never in a million years. Ryan had always been oddly fascinated by demons and their powers, but it had never been anything more than academic interest. He was more afraid of them than anything else, and everyone knew there was no such thing as a ‘good’ demon. 

Then he found out what Shane really was, and the love he felt for the man became the love he felt for the demon. Suddenly that academic interest had a safe outlet. Shane was the closest thing to a good demon that Ryan knew about and he was someone that Ryan already had sexual thoughts about. He had started to wonder. Innocent things at first, like if crucifixes bothered him at all or what it was like to live as a human. Those innocent thoughts didn’t last long. Once he had witnessed Shane _throw a desk through a wall_ , he became aware that there was so much more to his best friend than he could have ever guessed. 

That one time of watching demon porn had haunted his idle thoughts, but he had done his best to push them away. Not well enough, apparently. Not if his interest was so very obvious. 

Ryan knew firsthand what it was like to be fetishized. He had slept with more than one man who had admitted to dating him simply because he was Asian. He had no problem with a person being appreciative of the color of his skin or his features, but when someone took one look at his face and turned him into nothing more than a sexual object, it hurt something deep within him. 

By the time he had met Shane, he had long grown tired of the insinuations and assumptions that came from simply being born a different race. The number of times he had been called a twink, despite the fact that he didn’t exactly fit the stereotype and could bench press most of the guys he dated, was staggering. Ryan knew what it was like to just be a- _a thing_. 

God help him, he’d done that to Shane. 

He could try to rationalize it all he wanted, but when it came down to it, he had turned Shane into an object. He could remember with clear, nauseating shame the times he had furtively pictured the demon in that video, just to think about the horns or the eyes, or even the strength. It was disgraceful how much he had fantasized about Shane during those times. 

Even now, despite the shame and sick humiliation that was making him sweat and tremble, he couldn’t remember ever being so hard. It was almost painful how the tiniest shift made his jeans rub with delicious friction.

A thumb gently wiped a tear off of Ryan’s cheek, the claw at the tip coming dangerously close to his eye in an echo of earlier. The mix of shame and arousal was quickly becoming all he could think about. “I could do anything I wanted to you, as long as I looked like this.”

Ryan whimpered. 

“I could fuck you,” Shane said, each word dark and dangerous. “And then I could rip your throat out. You’d love every moment of it.” 

Shane drew his hand back, then licked the liquid off of his thumb, that forked tongue flicking delicately at his skin. It was probably one of the hottest things Ryan had ever seen. He ached to feel that sensation on himself. And that thought sickened him. Shane was _not_ an object, dammit. 

“Stop,” he tried to whisper, but his voice was frozen. It became a wordless plea.

Shane tilted his head and swayed closer, a snake about to strike. He actually opened his mouth and hissed softly, eyes bright and focused. It was an action and a sound that verged on the kind of play-acting that Ryan normally would have laughed at. 

Something about it now, while flushed with mortification and desperately hard, made Ryan gasp and groan. He curled forward in a hopeless attempt to escape the pleased, knowing look on Shane’s face. 

Like that had been a cue, there were strong hands unexpectedly wrapping around his upper-arms, manhandling him closer, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. He was forced to straddle Shane’s thighs as there was nowhere else for his legs to go. It made the material stretching across his cock shift and slide. He let out a grunt of pained, aroused surprise, too startled to do more than flail until his hands settled on Shane’s shoulders. 

As soon as his fingers found purchase in a shirt that was stiff and tacky with drying blood, Shane lunged forward, latching onto Ryan’s neck with his mouth. It wasn’t a soft, gentle kiss. It was a wild, almost frenzied bite. Sharp teeth dug and scraped, followed by harsh suction that was nearly more painful than the teeth. Shane trailed a pattern of hard, bruising bites down Ryan’s shoulder, snarling in frustration when the sleeve of Ryan’s shirt got in his way. 

It was too forceful, too painful for it to be good, but each deliberate swipe of a tongue that was too thin against his skin was a shot of sensation straight to his cock. 

The temptation to let it all happen was overwhelming. He wanted nothing more than to let his head fall back, to give Shane more access to his neck and just take whatever the demon had planned. His eyes were already closed, breathing coming in sharp gasps as his brain tried to process even a fraction of what was going on.

Then a warm hand wrapped around his wrist, guiding him towards Shane’s head. He was too addled by lust and desire to question the movement until his fingers collided with hard, ridged bone. It was instinct to wrap his hand around the curved object. 

The realization that it was one of Shane’s horns in his hand nearly made him come right there, the visceral reminder that it was a _demon_ doing this to him better than any touch. The distant knowledge that he was rocking his hips, writhing against Shane in an attempt to get any kind of pressure was such an insignificant feeling of embarrassment that it barely registered.

It didn’t help when Shane fucking moaned, a low, hungry noise. 

“Ryan,” Shane growled, barely sounding like himself. “Let go. Use me, it’s okay.”

Ryan shook his head wildly, not even sure what he was a disagreeing with. Any coherent thoughts he had ever had were long forgotten. But the feeling of shame wasn’t going away. 

Something about this was wrong, but-

“You’re delicious. Is that what you need to hear? That every furtive little fantasy of yours is coming true? That you’re feeding a _demon_?” Shane purred the word. It seemed to echo in Ryan’s head. 

Abruptly, he could remember why he felt so ashamed. 

He let go of Shane’s horn like it burned him, his eyes flying open in a jarring need to see that his demon - _No, partner, he’s my partner, he’s not my demon, he’s not a pet_ \- was just as affected as he was. 

For one brief, nearly missed, second, Ryan saw dark, glittering scales spreading across Shane’s throat. He made himself ignore it. 

Despite the weight of his cock, the ache of need coursing through him, and the way Shane was staring at him as if he was a rare steak placed in front of starving man, he managed to gather breath to speak. 

This time, his words were clear. “Stop, Shane. Please.” Ryan drew in another ragged breath. “Please, no more.”

Shane stared at him for a long moment, his black and green eyes completely unreadable. Then he bowed his head. 

The tension in the room, the aura of lust Shane had been emanating, it all vanished. Ryan had honestly forgotten that Shane had been manipulating his emotions. It had seemed so inconsequential at the time. Suddenly he felt like he could actually _think_. 

He watched the horns and tongue simply disappear, the poisonous demonic eyes fading into soft brown. Shane blinked, then slumped into him, the dangerous smirk falling off of his face.

“I’m sorry,” Shane said in a shaking voice. He sounded horribly, pathetically human. 

Ryan’s breath stuttered, then he surged forward. Shane flinched as if he thought Ryan was going to hit him, but instead he was wrapped into as strong a hug as Ryan could manage with how shaky he felt. “Shane, I’m so so sorry,” he muttered into the man’s neck, the words ending on a peculiar hitch. “I didn’t know you knew, I thought I was doing a better job of hiding it, I should have realized, I’m so sorry. You’re a fucking demon, of course you could figure out my fetishes or kinks or whatever, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

His babble was interrupted when Shane pulled him back and kissed him. 

It was over before it really started, but it left Ryan stunned. He stared, wide-eyed at Shane, who gave him a grim attempt at a smile. “As a ‘fucking demon’ as you so eloquently put it, I’ve seen far far worse than anything your mind could come up with.” The man shook his head, as if to clear it. “You’re fine. I’m the one who took it too far. Your self-disgust tasted so good, I-” Shane sighed. “There’s no excuse. You trusted me. If you hadn’t said stop, I would have-” Again, he stopped. It was a little frustrating. 

“Would have what?”

Shane’s hands were warm around Ryan’s arms. It nearly distracted him from the way Shane’s eyes darted to the side. “Well, you said no sex next to a dead body, but five more minutes and that would have been a tick off the bucket list.”

“I completely forgot there was a dead guy right there,” Ryan blurted without thought. 

“I’m just that good,” Shane said, winking comically. It was such a lighthearted response that Ryan felt for a moment like nothing was real. 

Shifting, embarrassed that he was still straddling Shane’s thighs and still annoyingly hard, Ryan plaintively asked, “Can we go now? My dick is about to fall off. I really need to take care of this.” Usually he wouldn’t be so upfront about it, but subtlety had gone out the window some time ago. 

Shane snorted. “And we’re supposed to catch the bad guy.”

“Right, that too.”

They smiled at each other and Ryan took the small opportunity to study Shane’s face. He looked pensive, almost miserable, even though his mouth was curved in a genuine smile. Ryan brought his hand up just to brush his thumb across Shane’s lower lip. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But I forgive you, if that’s something you’re worried about.”

With a quiet little sigh, Shane’s smile turned bittersweet. “I know that’s not what _you’re_ worried about.” He tried for his usual mocking tone. It fell short. “You really need to see someone about all that sexual guilt you’ve got hiding in that soul of yours. It’s like you’re secretly Catholic.”

It wasn’t a good joke. It barely even qualified as a joke. But it made Ryan snort a wet sounding laugh. Shane’s face softened. The look in his eyes was profoundly caring and sad.

And Ryan fell in love all over again. It was the wrong emotion for the situation. Shane had been lying to him for years and continued to do so. He was a fallen angel, for fuck’s sake. There wasn’t room for a human being in love with him in that equation. But Ryan couldn’t help how he felt. He didn’t want to. 

The warm feeling that surged in his chest was like a drug after the negative extremes of the last hour. It felt good. Even if it was a foolish human love that could never be requited, he knew that Shane still cared for him. And that meant so much more than sex ever could. He smiled up at Shane, a real smile, filled with love and honest forgiveness. 

Shane gasped, his expression going shocked as he stared at Ryan. There was a sharp boom and the building rattled. Dust poofed up from the concrete floor all around them.

Every single rune now had a crack running through the center of it.

“What the hell?” Ryan asked in a high-pitched voice. “Was that you?”

“Uh. Yeah, yeah it was,” Shane answered, looking at the runes like they were going to bite him. 

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“Wasn’t expecting it to happen quite like that.”

Ryan groaned, resting his head against Shane’s shoulder. “Is this going to come back to bite us on the ass?”

“On the contrary," came the slow, thoughtful answer. "I think you just made things easier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might have gone a little weird...
> 
> Thank you all so much for the wonderful support :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all <3

It was the sound of a passing vehicle from outside the building that finally made Ryan awkwardly clamber off Shane’s lap. Despite the aching need to be touched and the way his thoughts were fogged over from emotional exhaustion, the dramatic breaking of the circle and the realization that they could leave had reminded him that they had a job to do. He didn’t like the way Gibson had said ‘48 hours’. They needed to get out of there and change clothes so that they could go to the station as soon as possible. There had to be a way to impress upon Williams the importance of trapping Gibson in a circle as soon as possible without letting on what they had done. 

First, they needed to find a way to get back to their cars without anyone seeing them. 

_And if I could find five minutes of privacy, I’d really appreciate it._

Ah hell, who was he kidding? Make that two minutes. 

It had to have only been three or four in the morning, but it wouldn’t be long before early commuters began to make their way through the area. While he didn’t think an abandoned building was going to have all that many people stumbling inside, Ryan knew that they needed to leave soon.

Doing his best to ignore the most stubborn boner of his life, he drew his phone out of his pocket, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw that he had a few notifications and a text from his brother. Breaking the circle meant that their phones were working again, at least. 

Right as he was pressing the first ‘1’ on ‘911’, Shane gently grabbed his wrist to stop him. He gave Ryan a confused look. “What exactly are you doing?”

Ryan raised his eyebrows, equally confused. “We can’t just leave the body here.”

“No, of course not,” Shane said in a sarcastic voice that meant he had planned to do exactly that. “Clearly it would be a good idea to call attention to a crime scene while it's still fresh enough that it will be obvious demons fought here.”

Jerking his hand away, Ryan narrowed his eyes in a frustrated glare. “Then what do you suggest, Mr. Condescending-Know-It-All?”

“Burning the building.”

Ryan wasn’t entirely sure he had heard that right. “Burn- What?! You can’t burn this place down!”

Shane grimaced. “It is a little sad. I think this used to be a Blockbuster. They’re icons of a different era.”

This conversation was getting ridiculous and Ryan thought he had a pretty high tolerance for ridiculous conversations when it came to Shane. He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, since it wouldn’t do any good. “Shane, we’re not turning to arson just to hide a crime scene. And it’s disrespectful to the poor guy that you _ripped the head off of_.”

“What does he care? He’s dead.”

Ryan was beginning to realize that Shane’s odd sense of humor had more to do with him being an immortal demon than him being weird.

“Shane, we’re not burning the building down.”

“And when Forensics finds my blood and is able to match it to my files?”

Fuck. That was a good point. Ryan did his best to ignore Shane’s smug face and grudgingly asked, “Can you burn only your blood?”

Shane stared down at him, searching his face for something, before sighing and making a lazy gesture. 

The snap and hiss of sudden flame behind him made Ryan jump and spin. There was trails of foul smelling smoke coming from all of the splatters and pools of blood on the concrete floor and Balam’s body was being consumed in a merry blaze. There was a smaller, equally cheerful fire crackling around the head. Both were already turning to char. 

Ryan knew how hot fire had to be to successfully burn a body. The fact that Shane could just _do that_ , could wave his hand and conjure such a strong fire was almost more disconcerting than knowing he was a fallen angel. 

Almost. 

He stared for a moment too long at the fire burning a body that Shane had torn in two to save him. The significance of that felt too big for him to fully examine. 

“His family?” he asked dully. 

“Dental records. His teeth won’t burn.”

Right. Okay. _Get it together_. He’d feel guilty after they banished Gibson.

Ryan shook his head and started to walk towards the door. “Don’t suppose you can glamour two people? We’re both covered in your blood.” Which was an odd thing to say so casually. 

“Or I could-”

The way Shane cut himself off made Ryan look over his shoulder. “What?”

Shane did more staring, something that was going to start becoming really annoying, then seemed to make up his mind about something. He strode forward and pulled Ryan into a tight hug. Ryan caught a glimpse of skeletal wings appearing. They rose up and flexed. “Don’t throw up on me.”

“What?” Ryan started to repeat, but before the word was fully out of his mouth, the world went dark and upside down. 

It was the sensation of being at the top of a roller coaster, that lurch just as the ride began to fall, when the body moved but the stomach tried to stay in place. Multiplied by ten. A moment that simultaneously lasted a second and stretched into eternity.

Sight returned so fast that Ryan had to slam his eyes shut, the brightness of overhead lights leaving an after image of Shane's living room imprinted on his eyelids. 

The thrill of it all was nearly overwhelmed by the nausea that stole his breath, but Ryan couldn’t help but exclaim, “Holy shit!” as soon as was able to force his eyes back open, squinting to see. He immediately followed that with, “Why the fuck did you leave your light on?”

Shane blinked down at him, bemused. “That’s your first question?”

“It’s a waste of electricity, dude.”

His reply was one arched eyebrow. 

Ryan couldn’t hold back his grin any longer. All of his roiling guilt and anger was pushed aside in favor of giddy excitement. “You can fucking teleport?”

Shane shrugged, though his smug smile ruined his casual air. From so close, the expression was distractingly attractive. “Fly, technically.”

“Wings,” Ryan breathed to himself, his eyes going straight to the bones still arching behind Shane. “That’s how you got to my apartment so fast!”

“Wow, aren't you a regular Nancy Drew.”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan said absently, a jolt of adrenaline and interest clearing the fog from his thoughts. And abruptly reminding him that, while he wasn't hard anymore, _finally_ , there was still a thrum of constant arousal running through him. It wouldn't take much to get him started again. For fuck’s sake, he thought he'd been done with that kind of thing after high school. He took a step back, out of Shane’s arms, and tried to think of anything else. “What about our cars?”

Shane sighed, obviously exasperated. “I'll take care of it.”

He wanted to ask for clarification, or argue, or something, but the burst of energy was making him all too aware of his current predicament. 

“Can I use your shower?”

The way he blurted it was more telling than if he had straight up said “I need to jerk off.”

Shane didn't bother to hide his grin. “Got a situation? A _pants_ situation?”

“A pants- What are you, thirteen?” Ryan shook his head. “You know what? Yes, yes I do. And it's your fault, so the least you can do is not be a dick about it.”

“I think I could do a bit more than that.”

“The wink was unnecessary.”

Ryan had never been attracted to a man wearing a tattered shirt and covered in blood before this. Original Star Trek Kirk notwithstanding. But the sly smirk and lazy, dark glance Shane was giving him was only enhanced by the dark brown gashes. 

Shane made a contemplative noise, a thin hum, then he relented. He nodded towards his bathroom. “You know where the shower is. I'll grab some clothes for you to change into.”

He had to admit, clothes that weren't covered in dust and dried blood sounded amazing.

It occurred to him that he had no idea where his hat was. He had taken it off at the bar, which seemed like such long time ago. Not the handful of hours it actually was. 

Damn it. He had liked that cap, too

The underlying urgency from before came back, reminding Ryan that he didn’t have time to worry about a _hat_. He trailed after Shane down the short hallway that led to the bathroom and bedroom. Ryan had been in Shane’s apartment so many times that he didn’t have to think about where the light switch in the bathroom was or worry if Shane would be upset at him for using his soap and shampoo. He even knew to grab a towel from the basket of clean laundry that sat right inside the bedroom door, since Shane never got around to putting them away. 

Sometimes it was really hard for Ryan to remember that his partner was a demon.

Absently, he pulled his shirt off and dropped it to the floor. He just happened to glance into the mirror before going to remove his shorts and paused, doing a double-take. Bruises and bitemarks littered the side of his neck and shoulder, some of them so dark they were purple. Ryan hadn’t really forgotten that Shane had nigh on attacked his throat, but the heat and soreness coming from his skin had been such a low priority that he had pushed it aside. 

Ryan raised his eyebrows at his own reflection, bringing his hand up to lightly touch the largest bruise, just to the side of the silver chain of his necklace. ‘What the fuck?’ he mouthed to himself. 

He shoved open the bathroom door without thinking about what he was doing and yelled down the hallway, “You trying to be a fucking vampire or what?”

There was a faint sound of Shane yelling something back at him, footsteps, then the man walked out of the bedroom, clothes in his hands. He had changed, his wings gone and his tattered shirt replaced by a threadbare T-shirt that had been washed so many times it was gray. His pants were now sweats that revealed thin ankles. It was weird that he had changed into those clothes when Ryan had every intention of going back to the station after they got clean. 

“What?” Shane asked innocently, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

“Dude, I look like I was attacked by a vampire or five. Or a teenager that just discovered sex.”

Shane tossed the clothes onto the side of the sink, then leaned against the doorjamb. He smirked. “You weren’t complaining at the time.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes, rubbing his hand against his neck. Now that he was aware of the marks, they hurt a little. “Dirty pool.”

“Guess you’ll have to invest in some concealer,” Shane said, smirk widening into a grin. 

“I’m not sixteen, I’m not going to-” Ryan made an inarticulate noise of frustration. “You’re lucky you didn’t go much higher or I’d kick your ass. At least I’ll be able to keep it covered with my work shirts.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like it.”

Ryan had been in the process of turning away, but he paused mid-motion. He looked at Shane with a surprised expression. “You… What?”

“You’re marked,” Shane said, a hungry glint entering his eyes. “You’re mine.” He reached out as he spoke, his ridiculously long arm making it so that he didn’t even have to shift from his position in the doorway, and lightly drew his fingertips down the side of Ryan’s neck. 

It was a shivery, ticklish sensation and Ryan flinched away automatically, but not far enough for Shane’s fingers to fall off his skin. “I’m _not a_ -”

“A pet,” Shane said over him, smiling. He shook his head. “You’re not. You’d make a terrible pet, you can’t follow orders worth a damn.”

“Fuck off.”

“And you’re cute, but you’re not ‘kitten on Instagram’ cute, either.”

“You keep talking and I’m calling Father Luna right now and exorcising your ass.”

Shane grinned and straightened, completely unperturbed by the threat. He took a step close, resting his forearms on Ryan’s shoulders, one hand curving around to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Is it so hard to believe that I want the world to see you as my lover? I’ve been around for a month of Sundays, I think I know how much humans enjoy these little shows of possession.”

Ryan couldn’t help but snort, a quick little laugh despite his annoyance. “Was that a fucking pun? Possession? Really?”

“Not intentional, but I’ll take it.”

He had meant to back away from Shane, but Ryan _liked_ the feeling of Shane standing so close to him, the weight of his arms pressing down. That didn’t stop him from letting the smile drop off his face, though. “Why now?”

Shane hummed a quiet questioning noise. 

“Why are you suddenly so, I don’t know, into me? As more than just friends. Why all of this?” Ryan frowned, gesturing awkwardly between the two of them and then at his neck. “It can’t just be because I know you’re an an- a demon now. You’ve been acting weird since before I found out. What actually changed?”

Dark brown eyes stared down at him, piercing in their normalcy. Ryan almost wished they were green and black. It would have been easier than this-this _familiarity_. “Even now, I wonder what is coincidence and what is planned,” Shane said nonsensically. 

“Uh…”

Shane let one arm slide down, his finger hooking under the chain of Ryan’s necklace, running along its length until he could grasp the medallion. He studied it for a long moment. “I almost didn’t put a protection on this that night.”

“What? What night? The night we first saw the cannibal demon?” Ryan hesitated, then corrected himself. “Gibson, I mean?”

“It was only supposed to be a stakeout to look for some kidnapped children,” Shane said, like he was talking to himself. “If you hadn’t seen that the homeless man was possessed by a demon, if I hadn’t followed my instincts and blessed this, if-” He closed his eyes briefly, as if he needed to gather strength. “If this hadn’t been a two-sided medallion, you would have died that night.”

Ryan bit his lip, too many questions coming to his mouth for him to really process them all. He chose one at random. “Why would I have died? Gibson wasn’t that strong yet, right?”

Shane raised one eyebrow. “You don’t remember? He threw a curse at you. It was powerful. And I wasn’t expecting it. I wouldn’t have been able to catch it.” He raised the medallion slightly. “But this did.”

That did jog a memory of standing in the house, his gun pointed at a homeless man while he stared wide-eyed at a terrified Shane, feeling shocked and shaky that he was still alive. But so much had happened since then that Ryan had forgotten about the curse that should have killed him. 

Bringing his hand up to tangle over Shane’s, Ryan felt at the edges of the medallion. “And what does this having two angels on it have to do with-”

Comprehension dawned. Ryan’s mouth slowly fell open. 

Shane looked up at the ceiling, looking honestly embarrassed. “Belief is powerful.”

“And I’ve always believed in the Angel of Mons more than St. Michael,” Ryan said half to himself, staring unseeing at Shane’s chin. “Holy shit. _Holy shit_.”

“Yeah, uh. Gave it that little extra oomph.”

Ryan’s gaze snapped up. “ _I’ve prayed to you_.”

Shane refused to meet his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah you have. Might not want to say that out loud again, though.”

“ _You knew about it_?!”

“I hear it,” Shane said. “I hear everyone. I just. Ignore it.”

That raised so many questions about belief and religion and the universe that Ryan thought his brain was going to melt right out of his ears. Not to mention the sheer embarrassment of remembering the kinds of things he prayed about when he was ten fucking years old. And how powerful Shane had to be if he could comprehend and ignore so many people praying to him. It was too much to understand, too much of a worldview change, so Ryan pushed most of his shock and wonder away. “But you’re a-” _fallen angel_ “-demon. How can you get any power from prayer? That’s not a negative emotion.”

“It’s not the prayer, it’s belief. It’s not the same as feeding off auras,” Shane said with a careful shrug. “You literally don’t have the language necessary for me to explain it. The explanation behind it is… complicated. Just know that belief can mean more than any emotion. Why do you think Lucifer is so powerful? Satanists aside, it’s not like many people are praying to her. But a large percentage of the population believes in the Adversary.” 

Ryan was so tired of revelations that he was literally one epiphany away from duct taping Shane’s mouth shut. “Lucifer is-” he took a deep breath. “Lucifer is the real deal?”

“For all intents and purposes?” Shane asked hesitantly. “Uh. More or less. Yes.”

“Oh,” Ryan said. 

_I’ve met Satan. Satan knows my name_. 

He very carefully, very slowly, pushed their hands down and leaned forward until he could thunk his head against Shane’s collarbone. “I’m so done with all of this.”

“My bad.”

Ryan snorted tiredly. “‘My bad’? Whatever, bro.”

Shane shifted, bringing him closer into something resembling an embrace. They stayed like that for awhile as Ryan’s brain raced, trying desperately to make some kind of sense of all the new information. In spite of everything, he had to admit that being held felt nice. It felt human. 

Eventually, he muttered into Shane’s shirt, “I’ve nearly died before. I was in the hospital for a week pissing blood after those cultists got ahold of me. Why was this time different?”

“Dying to a deranged human is a natural death.”

“I think we have different ideas on what ‘natural’ is.”

Shane huffed, as much a sigh as it was a laugh. “Mortals killing mortals is nothing new. All that has changed is the methods. You’re going to die. I know that. But the idea of you dying to a demonic curse, was- _is_ wrong. You don’t deserve that kind of death.”

Ryan took a second to parse that. “Is this some kind of weird jealousy thing? Humans are fine, but if another demon tries to touch me, all bets are off?”

“I wouldn’t really put it like-”

“Oh my God, it _is_. That’s why you got so pissy whenever Gibson got too close to me.”

“Ryan, no.”

“That’s remarkably human of you,” Ryan said, leaning back so that he could meet Shane’s eyes. “We’ve rubbed off on you.”

“Don’t think humanity has a monopoly on stupidity,” Shane muttered, looking put upon. 

“Oh no, you’ve definitely proven that demons can be just as stupid,” Ryan said, doing his best to push aside all of his fear and awe. God, it felt good to banter with his partner like it was old times. 

Shane’s mouth thinned into a straight line as he glared down at Ryan. The effect was ruined by the way he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face. Ryan grinned, ignored the thought that he was essentially cuddling with the one angel that he believed in, and stretched his neck so that he could kiss the corner of Shane’s jaw. 

In a move that Ryan could have never pulled off in a million years, Shane ducked his head, catching the kiss on his mouth. Ryan laughed against his lips but went with it, finally letting go of his medallion to drag his hands up Shane’s sides. After a few mind numbing seconds of a kiss that was almost too good to be believed, Ryan pulled back for breath. 

“How the fuck does a being without a body get so good at this kind of thing?”

“A lot of practice. Centuries of it.”

Ryan exhaled sharply through his nose, not quite a snort. “Let me guess, you’re not a slut, you’re just experienced” he said, smiling to show that he was teasing. 

“Call me whatever you want, just keep kissing me,” Shane murmured, tilting his head to to find Ryan’s mouth again with his own. 

There was a brief, frozen moment where Ryan stared, then he jerked back, torn between incredulity and amusement. “Did you seriously just use a line on me?” At Shane’s startled look, he made his voice go high pitched, mimicking Shane as annoyingly as he could. “I’m an incubus, I’ve been doing this for thousands of years, I can seduce anyone.”

“I never said that.”

Ryan shrugged, smiling in an exasperated way. “‘Call me whatever, just keep kissing me?’ Really, man?”

“If you weren’t such a cynic, that would work,” Shane said, drawing his hands down Ryan’s arms, a path of warmth that reminded Ryan he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “I have literally had an easier time getting into a monk’s pants.”

“Not with lines like that you didn’t.”

Shane grinned, the slant to his mouth turning the expression wicked. “I didn’t use any words.”

Huh. That was- _Stop getting distracted, damn it_. Ryan sighed and stepped back, his ass hitting the edge of the sink. He made himself let go of Shane. “You’re interrupting my shower.”

Truthfully, he had expected his partner to say something mocking, maybe try for another kiss. He should have known better. 

With his soft, baggy clothes and two day old stubble, Shane looked like a tired man interrupted on his way to bed. The only thing missing was his glasses. So it was disconcerting that all he had to do was tilt his head a certain way, let his eyelids droop into a predatory, half-lidded look, and smirk slightly. And suddenly he was every inch the incubus Ryan had teased him about being. “Do you remember when you told me to tempt you?” Even his voice was different, lower and huskier. 

The words were a warning.

Ryan swallowed. “I’m pretty sure I told you to make me get used to you being a demon, not-”

The slight widening of the smirk was all the warning Ryan got before he was suddenly pressed harder into the sink, Shane’s hands in his hair to pull his head back. But Shane didn’t try to kiss him. He went straight for Ryan’s neck, zeroing in on the marks he had already left. Ryan jerked, instinctively cringing away when Shane started mouthing at skin that was sore and tender to the touch. But Shane’s hands were on his upper arms, keeping him in place. 

Despite having expected something like this, Ryan was frozen with indecision. He told himself to push Shane away, that this, whatever this was, would invariably take longer than the five minutes it would have taken him to shower. And they didn’t have the time for this. But he didn’t _want_ to push Shane away. The wet suction being steadily applied in a line down his shoulder had already gone from painful to amazing. 

Sensing that Ryan wasn’t going to physically stop him, Shane let go of his arms to drag his fingers down Ryan’s sides, firm enough to keep it from being ticklish. His fingertips hooked into the waistband of Ryan’s shorts, tugging teasingly. 

Ryan couldn’t help but groan, the noise shocking him. “Shane,” he breathed, trying to force some kind of steel into his voice. “

Shane ignored him. Of course he did. Ryan was overly aware of the fingertips that kept grazing across his stomach and hips, tantalizingly close to an area that was incredibly interested in what was going. 

“Shane,” he tried again. “We don’t have time to-”

“Let me worry about the time,” Shane murmured, biting gently under his jaw. 

“We need to-” Fingers slipped down his stomach, stopping just shy of the base of his dick. Ryan bit off a gasp. “Mother fucker. You goddamn cocktease.”

“Mmm, right on two of the three.”

Ryan didn’t have nearly enough blood in his brain to understand that right away. “What? What are you-”

“I’ll stop now if you tell me to. I won’t later.”

That was the epitome of unfair. How could he be expected to make decisions right now? “The hell are you even planning?”

Shane grinned against his throat. “Nothing that’ll shock your delicate sensibilities.”

Before Ryan could try to respond to that, Shane stepped back and drew his own shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor with a negligent little flick of his wrist. Ryan was shocked speechless. 

He had seen Shane shirtless before. Hell, he’d seen the man wearing nothing but boxers before. And Shane wasn’t exactly an underwear model. A career that required hours upon hours of sitting at desks and in vehicles had made sure that of that. But he was still more than attractive enough to make Ryan stare, with his surprisingly broad shoulders, the expanse of pale skin, and the sparse, but coarse, hair that covered his chest and stomach. Ryan itched to reach out and touch, to explore every inch of the body in front of him. 

Fuck, he had never thought he would get a chance at- at _this_. It was so many fantasies coming to life that he couldn’t quite believe any of it was real. Maybe that was what made him hesitate, what stopped him from reaching out and just taking the opportunity in front of him. 

Shane obviously didn’t have any such issues. He smiled smugly at Ryan’s expression, wrapped his hands around Ryan’s hips and physically turned him, using strength that couldn’t have been natural. 

Suddenly Ryan found himself drawn backwards, his back hitting Shane’s chest with a little thump of sound. His spine met skin that was warm and smooth. He could see the two of them in the mirror, a picture that wasn’t quite dirty but was well on its way. Shane was tall enough that Ryan could see in the reflection how he had to curve slightly to slide his arms around Ryan’s sides. He splayed his hands wide on Ryan’s abs, long fingers able to span all the way across. 

He had dated taller men before. They had never made him feel small like this. It was an odd experience. He truthfully couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. 

Without so much as a word, Shane drug his hands down in a quick caress and pushed Ryan’s shorts and boxers off, the clothes falling from his hips to tangle around his ankles. 

Ryan closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the sight of his naked body pressed against Shane and the image of Shane’s hand drifting towards his semi-hard, dripping cock. 

Somehow, it all felt so fast. Despite being in love with Shane for years, despite his daydreams and fantasies, he had never expected anything like this. And even though the past week had seen quite a bit of kissing between them, and Shane had nearly made him come in his pants an hour ago, he felt like they had skipped a step somewhere. 

It had never been a problem before. Ryan was all for getting straight to the point and he had enjoyed more than one ‘date’ that been nothing more than sex. The booty call was a tradition to be honored. But this felt different. Maybe because it was Shane. Maybe because he didn’t just want sex with the man, but an honest to God relationship. With bantering and flirting, waking up together and fucking _hand holding_.

He was rather abruptly interrupted in his thoughts when Shane grasped his cock without any kind of preamble. His eyes flew open and he was greeted by the sight of a bright green gaze watching him in the reflection of the mirror. He pressed back into Shane automatically, his mouth falling open on a ragged gasp as he shuddered. 

Shane’s hand felt far warmer than it should as he slowly, idly tugged Ryan’s cock, pausing to drag his thumb over the head, smearing pre-cum around. It was abundantly clear that he had every intention of taking his time. 

“Fuck,” Ryan groaned, his hand gripping at Shane’s wrist, just to have something to hold on to. 

“Maybe later.”

The next groan was entirely because of how terrible that pun was. “I don’t know why I-” he drew in a shaky breath, “expect better wit out of you.”

Shane gently bit the top of Ryan’s ear, his teeth too sharp. “Don’t be rude to the guy whose hand is on your dick.”

The feeling of teeth that weren’t anywhere near human tugging at his ear made Ryan jerk his head away, a flare of arousal mixing with the tiny pinpricks of pain. And, oddly, a rise of annoyance. He was fine with Shane being a demon, mostly, but oddly colored eyes and sharp teeth didn’t fit the narrative of any of his idle daydreams and imaginings. Even if the sight of those green and black eyes was making his already fast heartbeat stutter and speed up.

A wash of warm breath across his skin as Shane exhaled a faint laugh. Of course he had sensed the annoyance and was amused by it. It wasn’t worth it to confront him about it. Not now, not when all of his nerves were alight and his knees were gradually turning to jelly. Ryan closed his eyes again, leaning back and letting his head rest against Shane’s collarbone, making the man take some of his weight. He sighed once, long and quiet, allowing himself to enjoy the slow squeeze and slide of the hand on his cock. 

It was just a handjob, it wasn’t anything special. Honestly, it was a little too dry. But the leisurely, almost thoughtful, way Shane was stroking him was- fuck, it was _good_. He didn’t even realize he was rolling his hips, thrusting forward, trying to get a little bit more speed, until Shane’s free hand skimmed up his thigh to settle on his stomach, pressing to hold him still. 

Ryan huffed in frustration, pushing his head back harder into the cradle of Shane’s neck and shoulder in some vague attempt at retaliation. He had been aroused for what felt like hours now. This kind of steady pace was verging on torturous. 

Another brush of a thumb to spread more pre-cum, another bite to his ear that Ryan didn’t bother to try and get away from this time. A squeeze, a thoughtful hum, as if Shane was studying him. 

Fuck, the damn demon was going to be the death of him if didn’t get _more_ soon. 

He slid his hand down from wrist to fingers, wrapping his own fingers around Shane’s, trying desperately to guide Shane’s movements, to make him go faster. It didn’t do him any good. Shane ignored him and murmured, “Look at you,” sounding like he was talking to himself. “You’re breathtaking.”

Ryan opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of himself, flushed and panting, in the mirror. But what really drew his attention, what made adrenaline race through him and his cock twitch was the sight of Shane’s hand on his stomach, nails long and black. How had he missed the claws scratching above his belly button? 

There was an odd moment where he was thankful Shane hadn’t changed the nails on his other hand, since he didn’t want claws anywhere _near_ his dick, but then that surge of annoyance came back, sharper than before. “Couldn’t you just be _human_ for once,” he blurted without thinking. 

There was a small pause that would have been unnoticeable if Ryan wasn’t currently hyper aware of every move Shane was making. “But you like it,” Shane said, not quite a question. “You like that I’m not human.”

It wasn’t hurt in Shane’s voice, not quite. But there was a hesitance, a faint dip in his tone that sounded remarkably similar to pain. As if he was taken aback by Ryan’s reaction.

That thought made Ryan twist his upper body, bringing his free hand up to awkwardly clasp the back of Shane’s head to pull it down, meeting his gaze. Shane’s eyes were brown and achingly familiar, nothing demonic about them. It made Ryan feel oddly guilty. “Shit,” he said, breathless from the way Shane was still stroking him. “I didn’t mean it like that, I-”

Shane shook his head, interrupting Ryan. His expression was hungry. Not like he thought Ryan looked sexy. But like he thought Ryan looked delicious. “Oh, that’s a new flavor.” And then he bent his head and kissed Ryan hard, with bruising pressure that made him gasp, his mouth falling open. 

Ryan did his best to return the kiss, to match the tongue that had essentially taken over his mouth despite the difficult position, but Shane had taken that as his opportunity to _finally_ speed up his strokes, to squeeze and pull and twist his wrist in a way that had Ryan writhing. There was a tension at the base of his spine, spreading throughout his body, a slow building pressure that was suddenly hurtling towards a peak. 

A brush of power that Ryan recognized, a twist of emotions and a manipulation of his aura that he did absolutely nothing to stop. He was certain that if he cared to look, he’d see glittering shadow wrapped around his body. 

After all of the build up, the teasing and the intense emotions, with his neck twisted painfully, his ass and thighs pressed hard into Shane’s body, his hands clutching uselessly at fingers and hair, Ryan came embarrassingly fast. He panted into Shane’s mouth, unable to do more than groan as his hips jerked forward and his cock twitched in Shane’s hand. 

The haze of lust lifted instantly, Ryan’s mind sparking back to life, coherent and focused. It felt like the first time since he had followed Shane into an abandoned building that he could actually think clearly. 

_What the hell was the entirety of this night?_

He only had time for that one thought before Shane squeezed the head of his cock once, making Ryan squirm against him, far too sensitive for that kind of thing. 

The sweats that Shane was wearing did nothing to hide the fact that he wasn’t hard at all, a discordant note to the exhausted, bonelessness that was starting to creep over Ryan. Mentally, he was more awake than ever, but he physically felt like he was going to pass out. 

“Shane-” he started to say, but stopped when the man ignored him and proceeded to _lick his hand clean_.

Ryan could only stare, his head still twisted so that he could watch every swipe of Shane’s tongue through and around his fingers. A minute ago, that would have been one of the hottest things he had ever seen. As it was, it was still a sight he wouldn’t be forgetting any time soon. But it was also a little revolting. Tasting come had always been something that, to him, was hotter in theory than in practice. 

It was odd to feel vaguely disgusted about something that he knew was going to jerk off to later. 

It was also extremely odd to watch a man do something like that when said man wasn’t aroused. Ryan wasn’t the kind of guy that expected a lover to always be rock hard. He really wasn’t. But he was used to _some_ kind of physical indication of interest. Especially when he was naked.

Shane just looked thoughtful and vaguely smug. 

“Well now what?” Ryan asked, confusion over Shane’s actions making him uncomfortably candid. At this point he was usually either asleep or returning the favor. 

“I thought you were going to take a shower?” Shane said, amused and still irritatingly smug. “You need it even more now,” he continued, nuzzling into Ryan’s hair. 

“Just- just like that?”

It was annoying when his voice cracked like that. 

“I didn’t feed off you, I only took a taste-”

“Yeah you did,” Ryan said automatically, his mouth running without his brain’s input.

“-so I don’t need anything.”

Ryan tried to hide the disappointment from his face. It probably would have worked better if Shane wasn’t a demon that could read emotions. 

Shane sighed, though it sounded fond. “Shower. Talk about feelings later.”

“We need to work on finding Gibson, not talk about _feelings_ ” Ryan said, self-consciously stepping out his shorts and boxers then turning to face Shane. Besides, he didn’t think feelings had anything to do with wanting to go down on Shane. He was pretty certain that was just lust. 

“Ryan,” Shane replied, his voice soft, demanding Ryan’s attention. His eyes were warm, brown, and filled with dark fire. It was mesmerizing. Oddly familiar. “Forget about Gibson tonight. We’ll go in tomorrow at the usual time. We’re going to enjoy the rest of the night together, just the two of us. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ryan breathed. A thought struggled to be heard, a faint sense of wrongness. But the dancing, twisting flames in Shane’s eyes were fascinating. He never wanted to look away. The thought died and was quickly forgotten. 

“Take a shower, you’ll feel better.”

“Alright.”

Ryan blinked and he was standing under the hot water of Shane’s shower, his fingers tangled in the chain of his necklace. The medallion was warm in his palm. He had only the vaguest memory of stepping into the shower, of watching Shane slip out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him. 

Huh. That orgasm must have taken a lot of out of him. 

Grinning to himself at the juvenile thought, Ryan quickly washed and dressed, oddly touched when he realized it was pair of sweats and muscle shirt he had left at Shane’s months ago. They smelled faintly of the detergent Shane used. 

_I’m not going to smell the damn clothes. For fuck’s sake._

An urge to be next to Shane made his tired limbs work fast. Ryan didn’t examine the urge too closely. It was cheesy as all hell, but he nearly always wanted to be next to the man. Except for when he was being a dick.

He wandered out into the living room and plopped down on the comfortable armchair across from Shane, his usual spot when he was there. Shane sent him a small smile, his eyes crinkling from the soft, caring expression. 

It was oddly quiet in the room, but it felt nice. Restful. There was only the sounds of the air conditioner clicking on and the two of them breathing. Ryan felt like he could have fallen asleep right there. But. Feelings. 

Drawing his knees up, he decided to just go for it. “You didn’t need to do that, y’know.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Shane said blandly, looking at him innocently. 

Ryan huffed and fought to keep his smile off his face. “The hand job. Jerking me off. The reach around, the handy j, ringing my bells, the old fashioned.”

Shane’s eyebrows were slowly climbing with each new phrase. He grinned, wide and pleased. “Gave you ol’ razzle dazzle.” He even wiggled his hands.

Bursting into laughter, Ryan looked around for something to throw at Shane, but the closest thing available was a video game controller. “You ass,” he finally said, still laughing slightly. “Seriously. That wasn’t necessary.”

He expected Shane to continue the joke, but the man merely shrugged instead. “I wanted to.”

“Why? You don’t get anything out of it.”

“I beg to differ.”

“But you don’t, uh, there’s nothing….Things aren’t interested,” Ryan said awkwardly, making a vague gesture towards his own crotch. 

Shane snorted. He stared for a moment, his expression sobering, then he sat forward. “Imagine I was a vampire.”

“Alright,” Ryan said, a little too quickly. 

The serious look on Shane’s face faltered, then he grinned. “Really? Wow, you do have a thing for non-human men, don’t you?”

Was it possible to catch on fire from mortification? Ryan felt like he was going to find out pretty soon. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Anyways,” Shane said, still smirking. “If I had been a vampire instead of a demon, we probably would have been knockin’ boots years ago. And if I needed blood once in awhile in some kind of emergency, you would volunteer yourself, wouldn’t you?”

Ryan nodded slowly, not liking this feeling that he was being led. 

“It’s not like you’d mind, right? It’s just blood. Even though you would get nothing from it but the satisfaction of knowing you were helping your lover, you wouldn’t shy away from it. You might even enjoy it once in awhile. And if sometimes your lover wants to go for a vein in the thigh, get a little bit more in there, that’s fine, it’s something different.”

“Look,” Ryan said, holding up his hand. “I get what you’re saying. Your heavy handed metaphor didn’t escape me. But offering up my neck to be chewed on isn’t the same as sex. I get that uh, giving me a helping hand when I’m jerking off isn’t exactly a hardship for you. And, I mean,” he rubbed at the back of his neck, looking away. “I’m not opposed to that. Obviously. But what you’re oh-so-subtly referring to? Actual sex? I...I can’t do that if you’re not into it. It’s probably stupid and human of me when you obviously don’t mind, but I want to know my partner is enjoying it, too. Physically.”

Shane planted his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. He was looking at Ryan like he was a puzzle to solve. “I _can_ get hard, you know, if that’s what you’re worried about. You know I’ve dated. Did you think I didn’t fuck those women?”

It was impossible to stop the thread of jealousy. Shane didn’t say anything, but it was obvious he felt the emotion. He looked far too amused. Ryan glared, but tried not to get derailed from the conversation. “But you said you had to feed off lust to make that happen. You telling me you scared those girls or something to make it negative enough for you to feed off of?”

Shane raised one eyebrow. “You think most women aren’t already a little scared when they’re having sex with a near stranger the first few times?” His expression went contemplative. “Or it goes in the other direction. And coveting is still a sin.”

“Wait, does it have to be negative or does it have to be a sin?”

“Aren’t they the same?”

Ryan shook his head. “Semantics.” He took a deep breath. His voice sounded small when he said, “You fed off me before. You could do it again?”

Shane looked away. Ryan knew how well Shane could control his expressions, so he knew that he was being treated to a performance. But it was a compelling one. Shane looked downright torn between reluctance and a kind of greedy eagerness. 

With an eye roll that hurt a little, Ryan stretched out his foot so that he could nudge Shane’s shin. “Cut it out. We both know you want to do that again.”

Surprisingly, the reluctance didn’t drop off Shane’s face, though he did smile as he straightened up. “Of course I do. You-” The way his voice went hoarse sure _sounded_ genuine. “You’re delicious. But I also don’t think that you want to be afraid of me during sex just so I can leech off your lust.”

Well. No. He really didn’t. 

The silence that fell between them was heavy. Ryan wasn’t sure what to say. There were so many things he _could_ say, but half of them felt like lying. And for once, he thought they were both being pretty honest with each other. 

It was Shane who broke the tension. “It pisses me off how much you mean to me.”

Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Gee, thanks.”

Shane sent him a lopsided smile. “I’m serious. I’ve never met someone that made me wish I was something else. That made me wish I was lesser. I’m older, more powerful than you think. I’m so much more than you could ever comprehend-”

“Wow, I didn’t think your head could actually get any bigger, but-”

“If you could see _me_ , could see past the metaphors and the incorporeal shadow that the sight lets you see” Shane said over him, eyes dark and glittering, “You would go mad. If I left this plane, if I let myself be me, I could cause so much destruction that nuclear fallout would look like a paradise. ”

It was the dialogue of a bad Bond villain, rambling about how much of a badass he was. Ryan should have been laughing. And yet the matter of fact way that Shane was saying all of it was so forthright and dry that Ryan could only stare. He didn’t even entirely understand what was being said, but it made him feel abruptly small and insignificant.

“And then I see you. And I want to be…human. Weak.” Shane tilted his head, something teasing in his sudden smile. “Well, for you, I guess I would want to be a vampire or a fae or something.”

The joke was so jarring and out of place that Ryan didn’t have time to react to it. 

“You deserve someone who appreciates you the way you were made to be appreciated. With all the flaws and gross, imperfect love that humans are capable of.” Shane drew in a single, long breath. “For you, I wish I was mortal.”

For some reason, Ryan’s heart was beating too hard. There was a swell of emotion that was making it difficult for him to swallow and his stomach was twisted into weird knots. That didn’t stop him from saying in a thick, choked voice, “Dude, did you steal that line from a romance novel?”

There was a pause, then Shane winced as he thought back on what he said. “Shit, that did sound a little a corny, didn’t it?”

“A little? Any cornier and I’d be popping it for a snack.”

Shane let out a quiet laugh, then he spread his arms. “That’s me, baby. Corn-fed and corny.”

Ryan sighed, exasperated and fond. He stood up and crossed the small space between them to slump onto the couch next to Shane. “I love _you_ , Shane.” He twisted his head so that he was looking at Shane, his voice falling to a murmur. “Just because you’re ‘incomprehensible’ or whatever doesn’t mean that I actually want you to be someone else. I know I can’t actually _know_ you. I know that there’s literally thousands of years of your history that I could never understand. But that doesn’t change how I feel, even if it’s stupid. I’m sorry for what I said earlier. When you were- uh, when I said the thing about you being human. I was frustrated and kind of freaked out.” He let a self-deprecating smile curve his mouth. “I still am.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Shane said, looking back at him with a searching gaze. “It makes sense that you’d want me to be human.”

Ryan made a frustrated noise. He shifted, curling one leg under him so that he had the height to whisper in Shane’s ear, “I love you, Nahash.”

Shane actually flinched, pulling back to stare at him wide-eyed. “Ryan-”

An idea that scared him popped into Ryan’s mind. He nearly brushed over it, but there was an underlying urgency to their situation that made him reconsider. There was something about how Shane was acting, as if he was trying to say goodbye without actually saying it. As if he feared they weren’t going to win. 

Ryan had no idea where that certainty came from. There was an odd skip in his thoughts, a blank spot that he didn’t have the focus to examine right now. But he was sure that Shane was more worried than he was letting on. 

There was something about this 48-hour limit that Shane wasn’t telling him. 

Obviously there was something Shane wasn’t telling him, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. 

And Ryan _needed_ Shane to understand that how much he loved him. Just in case- Well. Just in case. 

So he met Shane’s eyes and hesitantly asked, “Hey, can you possess me for like, a minute?”

“What?”

Shane’s reaction was honestly a little funny. It made it easier for Ryan to nervously lick his lips and say, “We’ll pretend it’s like a tiny contract. One minute.”

“If this is some kind of weird roleplay, I’m into it, but is now the best time?”

“Shane.”

A small pause before Shane reached over and cupped Ryan’s jaw, his thumb brushing tenderly down his cheek. “One minute.” And then he kissed Ryan, a soft, chaste press of lips. 

Ryan’s eyes drifted shut automatically as he tried to focus his thoughts, doing his best to ignore the almost pleasant scrape of stubble. 

It was both better and worse to have his eyes closed, since he couldn’t see the dark, living oil rise up out of Shane’s body. But he also didn’t have any warning for when the demon was in him.

At the wordless sensation of alien curiosity washing over him, Ryan drew in a deep breath, amused that Shane had politely let him keep control of his body, and then just let himself _feel_.

He let himself feel everything. He hid nothing. The passion, the lust, the anger, the contentment, the betrayal, the fear, even the occasional threads of boredom and honest annoyance. All sparked by Shane and his presence. But most importantly, Ryan took all the love he felt for _Nahash_ and reveled in it. 

When he was sure that Shane had gotten the gist of it, he focused as hard as he could on keeping one thought clear. 

_I love you, Azazel._

It was odd to think the name. Even odder than ‘Nahash.’ He’d only known about it for a couple of hours. But it felt right, somehow. It fit. 

It was impossible to describe Shane’s reaction. There was a whirlpool of emotion, so vast and intense that Ryan knew he was only experiencing an edge of it. Instinct told him that if he tried, he might literally not survive. But the urge to sink deeper into the ocean of feelings was irresistible. There was surprise, love, tenderness, even a vague thread of condescension that didn’t surprise him in the slightest. And under it all, under the feelings pertaining to _him_ , there was a dark vastness. A foundation of implacable anger, an unshifting bedrock of pure despair-

His consciousness was gently but firmly herded away from the abyss. 

There was the babble of a language he didn’t know distracting him, a stream of words running through his head that still managed to convey shocked wonder and love. It was better to drown in that than what he had caught a glimpse of. 

A stretched moment of emotion, and then a sense that Shane was doing his best to control himself, to reign it all in. A wave of fond amusement swept through Ryan. 

_That was the cheesiest fucking thing I have ever experienced_ , came the foreign thought drifting through his mind. 

Embarrassingly, Ryan had to admit that it had been a little over the top. But it did the job of conveying how he felt. 

So he was a romantic at heart, sue him. 

Judging by the the fact that it felt like Shane was spinning in circles around his aura, he was pretty happy with the dramatic gesture, even if he was being a dick about it. It was a really odd sensation, actually. Like an excited puppy running laps around the inside of his consciousness. 

_I’m not a dog, neshama sheli_ , came the indignant response to his thought. And then something, some other unknown phrase. 

The abrupt feeling of Shane leaving his body was as much a relief as it was a disappointment. Ryan didn’t want to be possessed. He was quite happy with being alone in his body. But the memory of being able to touch the fountain of emotion that resided in Shane was not one that he would ever forget. 

Ryan slowly dragged his eyes open to be met by the sight of Shane grinning at him, muttering in whatever language that was. It was a shock to hear it out loud instead of only his head. He hadn’t been entirely convinced that it was a mortal language. 

“Shane, I have no idea what you’re saying.”

Shane blinked, then started laughing. He sounded delighted. “Oh shit, I haven’t done that in a long time. Talk about a throwback to a couple thousand years ago.” He gently leaned forward to rest his forehead against Ryan’s. “If I was being corny, you’re a whole damn cornfield.

“Uh…” Ryan was never going to get used to how casually Shane could talk about time like that. “So it _is_ a human language?”

“Yes, Ryan,” Shane said, gently mocking, as if Ryan should have known that. “Not a dialect that anyone living would know, but still.”

“Why is that your go-to, then? It’s not what I’ve heard you speak around other demons.”

Shane shrugged. “Reasons. Can’t really tell you. But that’s not important right now. What is important is the fact that you just keep making things easier.”

“...How?”

“You’ll figure it out soon enough,” Shane said with a teasing grin. He leaned forward, nudging his nose lightly against Ryan’s. “If something happens in the next couple of days? Remember this moment.”

That wasn’t ominous or anything. 

“Shane-”

Shane said something, a short phrase, the smug smirk making it clear that he knew how much it would infuriate Ryan to say something he didn’t understand. 

Ryan growled in frustration. “Shane,” he tried again. 

A light, playful kiss. “We should sleep. Big day tomorrow!”

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

Despite Ryan’s protests, he had found himself in Shane’s ridiculously large bed, wrapped up in Shane’s attempt at being an octopus. It had been distressingly easy to fall asleep like that. And even easier to wake up, warm and content, still tangled in Shane’s limbs. His arm was dead, and it took him a few seconds of quiet grimacing at the pins and needles sensation before he realized that Shane was watching him through half-lidded eyes, something tender and sad in his expression. 

Ryan squirmed a little, lowering his arm as the pain finally receded. He slowly raised one eyebrow. “Do I want to know how long you’ve been staring at me?” he asked, voice hushed. The early morning light filtering in through the window gave the quiet room a soft, muted glow. It made him long to burrow back into the pillow and Shane’s warmth. 

“Long enough that you could probably get a restraining order on me,” Shane replied, equally low. 

Like this, with his sleepy gaze and mouth quirked into a fond smile, Shane looked so human that Ryan honestly forgot, for one brief second, that he was a demon. 

Angel. 

Ryan frowned at his thoughts, feeling vaguely guilty. It wasn’t fair to the man to keep trying to find the humanity in him. He knew Shane was an incorporeal being. A scintillating, living shadow that had twined so delicately around his wrist. 

It was just so hard to remember sometimes. Rather than reply to Shane, Ryan leaned forward instead, so close that all he could really see was his eyes and nose. Shane’s eyes were their regular brown, soft and beautiful. Ryan searched for something, some sign of the demon in the little whirls and patterns that made up his irises, but there was nothing. They were only eyes.

“Um,” Shane said. “I know this is weird to say when my thigh is essentially your ball-warmer right now, but personal space is still a thing.”

“Do the eye thing.”

There was a long pause where Shane looked at him like he thought he had gone insane. “The… 'eye thing'.”

“Yeah, the-” Ryan tried to gesture, but their faces were so close that Shane probably couldn’t even see it in his peripheral vision. “Snake eye thing.”

Shane furrowed his brows in confusion, but when he blinked, his eyes had changed. Ryan leaned farther into him, his curiosity overwhelming him. The black of Shane’s pupils and sclera was plain and featureless. But the irises were fascinating. A vibrant, bright green, the thin fractals that made up that part of his eye different than a human’s, but still natural. Still of this world. Ryan would bet that if he could see a snake’s eyes that close, they would be similar. 

The slit pupil he was staring into dilated slightly, moving the fractals and patterns in ways he’d never seen before in a human eye. It wasn’t a glamour. “How the hell do you _actually_ change your eyes like that? Like, I can see your eyes working. It’s so weird.”

“Rude.”

Shane actually sounded a little defensive. His pupils thinned into nearly straight lines. It was mesmerizing to watch. 

Ryan blinked and tried to put some of his fascination into his voice. “No, that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually kind of cool. It’s a physical change, right?”

“Not really?” Shane said. “I said this before. Physics goes out the window.”

“But I can see those little things, the pattern things move.”

“Stroma.”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

Shane just stared, his general attitude tense. Ryan drew back to see that he looked a little uncomfortable. 

“Wait, is this- Are you actually nervous right now?”

Shane scowled. “No.”

“Oh my God, you are.”

A long sigh. “Not many people want to merely study possession signs. And the ones that do are usually doing it in a less than friendly way.”

“Oh.” Ryan blinked, then leaned back even farther. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, man. I was just curious.”

Gradually, Shane relaxed his head back against his pillow. “I know. Don’t worry, if you want to bask in my glory, I won’t stop you.”

Ryan snorted. “Ass.”

“You remember that tiki bar we went to on your birthday?”

The non-sequitur was so far out of left field that it blindsided Ryan. “What?”

Shane blinked slowly, looking completely at ease again. “The tiki bar. You made us all go. There was singing.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I remember waking up hungover with fourteen of those little drink umbrellas in my shirt,” Ryan said, confused but willing to go with the conversation change. “So I probably enjoyed it.”

“We should go there. Tonight.”

“Uh.” Ryan hesitated. Shook his head. “Sure. After we take care of Gibson.”

Shane didn’t roll his eyes, which was unfortunate, as Ryan would have been interested in seeing that, but it looked like he wanted to. “We’re not going to be able to banish Gibson by tonight.”

Ryan frowned. “Why not?”

“It’s gonna take time to set up a proper circle that will be able to hold him,” Shane said smoothly. It was casual, without a single twitch of his facial features. And yet Ryan still got the sense that he was lying. 

He started to sit up, to confront Shane, when a phone began vibrating somewhere. 

Shane twisted, untangling their legs to roll over and grab his phone from the nightstand. His eyebrows furrowed together when he looked at his screen, but he answered with a brusque, “Madej.”

Ryan could just barely hear a voice, what sounded like a woman, saying something loudly. 

Shane froze. Completely. Demonic stillness that was still more disconcerting than claws or horns ever could be. His eyes, still black and green, flicked up towards Ryan. “How did you get this number?”

More talking, strident enough that Ryan thought he could have understand the words if he had been a little closer. 

“Are you sure?”

A short pause. 

Shane heaved a heavy breath. “Fine. Fine, but if you’re wrong-Yeah... Fine.” He hung up and stared at his phone. After a second, his eyes slid closed. He dropped his phone on the bed and brought his hand up to his forehead, rubbing as if he had a headache. “Fuck.”

“Shane?”

“Our schedule just moved up.”

Ryan would have thought he would get used to always being in the dark, but nope, it was still as annoying as it had been yesterday and the day before and the day before that. “The fuck does that mean?”

Shane opened his eyes, once again normal and brown. “Get dressed. We need to go somewhere.”

There was a careful fragility to his tone, as if he was a second away from cracking. For all that Ryan had known him for years, he couldn’t tell if Shane was about to break down crying or throw an angry fit. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there,” Shane said, staring at Ryan as if he was a man on death row looking at his salvation. 

“Who was that? What was the phone call about?”

But Shane just pressed a swift kiss to the corner of his mouth and got off the bed, already reaching for a pair of pants. For some reason, there was a set of Ryan’s work clothes sitting on top of his dresser.

No matter how many times Ryan asked, cajoled, begged, or at one point, shouted, Shane refused to tell him anything. He just kept watching Ryan as they both got ready, fond and sad. 

It was starting to scare Ryan. 

Shane offered to make coffee, despite the way it was obvious that he was itching to leave, but Ryan found himself too nervous to drink caffeine. Seriously, what the fuck was going on?

“Who called? Why are you suddenly so desperate to leave? Was there another demon killed?”

He didn’t expect the way Shane paused on his way to the door, then turned and walked towards him. And hugged him. 

It was anxiety-inducing. 

After barely twenty minutes had passed since the mysterious call, they were walking out of the apartment building. Ryan was shocked to see that his car was parked on the street, though it was Shane’s that they headed towards. He wanted to ask how the hell Shane had managed that, but the man seemed too preoccupied to be willing to answer. 

A handful of minutes into the drive, Shane started talking. It was various things. Random observations he had had about their coworkers, his favorite jokes from various TV shows, occasional asides about memories of the two of them working together. 

As if he was trying to say everything he had always wanted to, but never had the time for.

Each, harried, too fast word made dread wind tight and tighter in Ryan’s gut. 

“Shane, you’re scaring me.”

Shane faltered mid-story, his expression falling. 

“Tell me what’s going on. Please.”

“I can’t.” Shane looked like he was about to throw up. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Ryan glanced up, confused to notice that they were in the middle of downtown, among the skyscrapers of Los Angeles. “Just tell me what’s going on,” he pleaded, ignoring their location for the moment. 

“You’re going to need all the time you can get,” Shane said, making no sense whatsoever. 

“Time for what?!” Ryan shouted. 

Shane ignored him, muttering, “Should have flown,” to himself as he wound his way up a parking structure. He continued to ignore Ryan as they got out of the car and made their way over to California Plaza, then followed a group of obvious tourists up the tallest building in the area. Ryan usually liked being there, since there was some pretty good food to be found, but right now Shane’s behavior was making him afraid and nervous.

Half way up the elevator ride, Shane grabbed his hand. It took Ryan a second to realize that Shane was literally just holding his hand. In public. Ryan started to shake. Only the presence of others kept him from shouting. Something was going to happen. And Shane wasn’t telling him a damn thing. 

When they had gone as far up as the public was allowed, Shane proceeded to duck down a few hallways that were marked as private, find a set of stairs, and then just broke open the locked door to the roof. 

“Shane, please!” Ryan yelled, tugging to get Shane to stop. It was like trying to stop a runaway train. They were getting perilously close to the edge of the building. That high up, it almost felt like they weren't even in the city. There was only one other building taller than the one they were on. 

The wind blew hard, tugging at their clothes and hair. 

Suddenly, Shane whirled on him. “Please keep this body on life support. I’ve gotten used to it.”

Cold horror froze Ryan to the spot. He tried to say something, _anything_ , but any sounds he managed to make were swept away by the wind. 

Shane let go of his hand and snapped his fingers. A set of parchments appeared out of thin air and dropped at Ryan’s feet, curling writing covering the top page. “Take that to Collins. He’ll be able to explain. And Ryan,” Shane leaned in to grasp his face, his expression searching and _panicked_. “You can trust Lucifer. But trust Collins over Lucifer. Remember that. And remember to hurry but _don’t rush_. Get everything right first. I’m not the only thing that could answer you.”

“What the fuck-” Ryan breathed. “Shane please, you need to tell me-”

“I love you.”

“Shane, no,” Ryan said instinctively. Shane had never actually said it before. That he would say it _now_ , on top of this building, with that panicked look in his eye, couldn’t mean anything good. “Whatever you’re planning you can tell me, just please stop this-”

In one of those moves that Ryan was starting to realize was actually flying, Shane was suddenly standing on the edge of the building, on top of the wall that ran the length of the roof. 

“Stop!” Ryan yelled, tripping forward, hand outstretched even though he was too far away to do anything. 

Shane smiled at him, a proud, yet sad expression, full of trust and love. “You’ll figure it all out, Watson. I have faith in you.”

Then he took a step back. 

And dropped.

Ryan shouted, sprinting forward, adrenaline surging so hard that he felt like every second stretched on forever. Shane had _wings_ , he could essentially teleport, there was no reason for Shane to drop like that, for him to have _fallen_.

He caught up against the waist-high wall, craning his head to search for something, anything, knowing he was too high up to see a body, if there even was one. His heart pounded, a running litany of _no, no, no, no_ running through his head.

There was the sound of something huge flapping in the wind, like the sail of a boat, and then-

Light.

A soundless explosion, a blazing star that was rocketing straight up the side of the building, then paused, hovering just above Ryan. He gaped and took several stumbling steps back, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

Wings so huge that they blotted out the sun rose in a majestic sweep across the sky, every feather shining with a fierce light was all that he could see for a moment. Then, in a wild, heart-stopping realization, he recognized that the creature- _being_ in front of him was Shane. 

Ryan wanted to think that it looked like Shane’s face had been taken and Photoshopped into perfection, but that felt wrong somehow. Too modern. Like the true metaphor would be that an ancient sculptor had lovingly recreated his face in flawless marble, taking each feature and perfecting it. Shane was still recognizable as himself, but _more_. He glowed with an inner light, his pale skin a beacon. 

At first, that was all Ryan could see. An awe-inspiring sight, in the truest, original sense of the word. But then he began to pick up little details that screamed something was wrong. The drape of white cloth at Shane’s waist, tattered and stained, covered in dried blood. The dented breastplate, defaced and discolored. The curved, rusted sword at his hip. The sweep of black horns, the sharp claws. 

Broken, rusted chains hung from Shane’s wrists and ankles, and those four glorious, beautiful wings were scarred, missing great swathes of feathers. Everything was covered, tainted by a pall of smoke and ash. His expression was inhuman. It held infinite sadness, an endless regret. The weight of a millenia was palpable in the set of his shoulders, a prideful creature brought low.

This was the divine profaned.

There was a small shift of feathers, and Shane moved forward, his bare feet stepping down onto the wall, then onto the roof like they were stairs. From this close, the glow was painful, and it was all Ryan could do not to fall to his knees in instinctual supplication. He fought the sense of joyful fear, the part of his mind that was telling him to worship this creature. He held his ground as Shane reached towards him, one perfectly formed hand cupping his jaw. 

Ryan flinched, somehow expecting the touch to burn, that he would explode into pieces just from the simplest graze of skin. Power exuded from Shane- No. Power exuded from _Azazel_ , a tangible brush of pure magic that felt like it should have been melting him where he stood. But it was just a touch, warm and comforting. 

Shane brushed away the tears that were streaming down Ryan’s face with his thumb. Ryan hadn’t even realized he had been crying. He couldn’t read Shane’s expression at all, but there was something heartbreaking in his posture. 

He brought his hand up, wrapping it around Shane’s wrist. The back of his finger grazed against the chain that was wrapped there, and he made a wounded noise. The metal was so cold that it _burned_ , a sharp pain that he felt down to his very soul. But he didn’t take his hand off Shane’s wrist. 

From this close, he could see that Shane’s eyes were black. Not the black of a demon. It was the dark, endless expanse of space between stars that was gazing into him. He couldn’t look away. 

Shane leaned forward, pressing his lips to Ryan’s forehead. A sound rose up, a whisper of a choir echoing across the roof. It was a twistedly beautiful noise, thousands of distant voices screaming in pain, harmonizing perfectly. In that terrible song, Ryan could barely make out his own name. 

The spot on his skin where Shane had kissed him felt too warm. 

A benediction from a fallen angel. A broken, damned, blessing. 

“Sh-Shane,” Ryan managed to stutter out, his voice broken, afraid. There was a question in the single word. 

Shane inclined his head, then took a step back. He drew his arm away from Ryan’s grasp. 

“W-wait, no,” Ryan said, “I don’t understand.”

Something that almost resembled a smile crossed Shane’s timeless, inhuman features. And then he lifted his great wings and flapped once, hard. The force of the wind created drove Ryan back several steps. He threw his hands up to protect his eyes, and when he felt safe enough to look up again, Shane’s body was a crumpled heap in front of him. 

But there was a glowing light, a ball of dark flame and shadow that was rising swiftly into the sky, farther and farther away until it blinked out of sight.

“Wait!” Ryan shouted, desperation and fear making him reach out uselessly. “Shane, please…”

He stood there. Staring helplessly up into the sky.

Trembling and alone.


	12. Chapter 12

Shane’s body lay in a heap on the roof, a marionette with its strings cut. 

Only years of dealing with emergencies kept Ryan from falling apart. His hands were steady as he rushed forward and turned Shane onto his back. Mind curiously blank, he kneeled down and searched for a pulse, his fingertips pressing too hard into Shane’s wrist. 

There was a beat. Slow and faint, but there. And so gradual he had almost missed it, the steady rise and fall of Shane’s chest. 

Shane was in a coma. Not brain dead. 

Ryan sank back onto his heels, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He dropped his head into his hands and allowed himself one full minute to flounder in his fear and confusion. And the steadily growing anger. Because how the _fuck_ had any of this happened? 

The sad way Shane had been acting since they had woken up, the phone call, the frantic urgency in Shane’s actions, none of it made sense. And the image of a ball of dark flames streaking into the sky, a meteor rising up instead of down, was startling clear every time he closed his eyes. Like it was burned onto his eyeballs. 

That-that had been _Azazel_. Ryan was sure of it. But why? 

_Why? Why the fuck did he just...just leave? Is he coming back? That fucking son a bitch-_

He cut the thought off, raised his head, and squared his shoulders. There was too much he needed to do and he didn’t have the luxury of wallowing in his emotions. No matter how much he wanted to. 

As gently as he could, because it wasn’t Shane’s _body_ that he was mad at, he straightened out limbs, consciously making the decision to not cross Shane’s arms. He didn’t want his partner- _lover_? looking any more like a corpse than he already did. 

_That’s just his body. No, that’s not even his body. It’s a body he stole, I’m going to save a body that should have died and been buried years ago. The being I love is-_

Fuck. 

No.

Ryan pulled his phone out of his pocket in a deliberate motion and dialed dispatch. His voice was remarkably steady when he said, “There’s been a demon attack.”

It was remarkable how fast a pair of EMTs arrived. Ryan watched, his emotions oddly distant as they wrestled Shane’s body onto a stretcher. He was only half aware of answering questions from the uniformed officer that had shown up barely a minute after the EMTs, more focused on the amount of time that was passing. And the feeling of parchment against his back. 

Stuffing the stack of papers that Shane left him down the back of his shirt was the only solution Ryan had been able to think of to hide them. Every time he shifted, he felt them crinkle against his spine. They were disturbingly warm and soft. Like skin. 

“Bergara.”

 

He turned to follow the EMTs as they wheeled the stretcher through the roof entrance. There wasn’t time to go with them, but he didn’t want Shane’s body to leave his sight until the absolute last moment. 

“Ryan?”

A hand entered his field of vision, stopping just short of landing on his arm. Ryan jerked back, reaching instinctively for the handle of a gun that he didn’t have. He turned wide eyes towards Lim, who was standing next to him with a concerned expression. 

Fuck, how had he missed the arrival of Lim and Ilnyckyj? He had been hoping that the PIU wouldn’t send someone, but he had known that was a slim hope at best. At least it was the morning, so it wasn’t Fulmer and Yang. Lim was good with the sight, but Fulmer was the one who would be more likely to see that something was off about the scene. 

“Lim?” he managed to say, voice rough. He coughed to clear his throat. “What are you doing here?”

Lim frowned at him. “You get attacked by a demon that sent Madej into a coma and you think the Captain wouldn’t send someone?”

“It’s not-” Ryan resisted the urge to close his eyes. He couldn’t just say that Shane had voluntarily gone into a coma. But lying had never been his strong suit. “The demon’s gone.” And that was the truth. “I don’t need backup.”

“Your partner isn’t exactly going to be much help,” Ilnyckyj said absently, watching the EMTs disappear. 

“I’ll be fine. I have leads to track down.”

“While your partner is in a hospital?”

“Standing around doing nothing isn’t going to help him,” Ryan snapped. At Lim’s startled look, Ryan took a deep breath, softening his tone. “I don’t think the demon was after me, okay? And I-” 

As much as he hated the idea of showing vulnerability to coworkers, he needed to make sure these two wouldn’t try to follow him. So he let some of his frustration and very real fear show. “Lim, I have to _do_ something. I’ll be fine going solo for a bit.” 

Lim stared at him, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied Ryan’s expression. Then his gaze dropped down, once, to Ryan’s neck. There was a second of a furrowed brow, then Lim’s face went smooth. “I see,” he said, as if he had heard more than Ryan was actually saying. 

And then, shockingly, he patted Ryan on the shoulder. “It will be alright, Bergara. Go do what you need to do. We’ll get some people posted at Madej’s room in case the demon tries to attack him again.”

Ryan felt something in him relax. He didn’t think Gibson would go after Shane’s body, since it was an empty shell at the moment, but what he didn’t know about the situation far outweighed what he did. Having someone guarding Shane meant that was one less worry. 

He nodded his thanks and started to walk away. 

“Are you sure it was a demon?”

Ryan swayed to a halt, looking over his shoulder at Ilnyckyj. “The attack? Of course. Why?”

Ilnyckyj was staring at the edge of the roof where Shane had stepped off. “Got reports all over the city of sightings of an angel.”

Ryan couldn’t have stopped his shocked exclamation of, “What?!” if his life had depended on it. 

“Yeah,” Ilnyckyj said, slanting a gaze at Ryan. “Right here, on this roof.”

It took all of Ryan’s willpower not to stutter. “An angel wouldn’t have left Shane unconscious.”

“No. No, I suppose not,” came the slow, thoughtful reply. “I’m sure there was no angel here.”

 

\--------------------------------

 

Ryan rested his forehead on the steering wheel of Shane’s car and focused on his breathing. He was parked in the driveway of Lucifer’s mansion, after having been inexplicably let past the gate guard without even having to say who he was. 

Shaky inhale. 

_Lucifer knows who I am._

_I’m going to die. To the Devil. This is it. I’m fucked. I’m so fucking fucked that a whole new word will have to be invented for the amount of stupidity in my plan_. 

Exhale. 

After having thought about it, he had decided to take the parchments to Lucifer first, then Collins. Shane had said that he could trust Lucifer, with the caveat of trusting Collins more. So it would be prudent to listen to everything Lucifer had to say with a grain of salt and then get Collins’ opinion on it. 

Inhale.

He was still wasn’t sure why Shane had assumed that either demon would be willing to talk to him. But if the news of an angel making an appearance in LA was already making the rounds, there was a very good chance that they would know it had been Shane. Nahash. Aza- whatever. 

Exhale. 

_Alright. Time to convince the actual fucking Devil to help me. Easy._

Ryan got out of the car with a determined air, his mind as settled as it possibly could be through the fear. He held the set of parchments in his hands as lightly as he could, despite nerves making him want to crush them in his fists. 

The door swung open as soon as he reached out to ring the bell, the same suited man from before staring at him impassively. 

Drawing on his experience, Ryan straightened his back and said with all the authority that he could muster, “I need to speak with Lucifer.”

The butler looked unimpressed, one eyebrow slowly tilting upward. But he opened the door further and indicated that Ryan should step inside. “I will inform them of your arrival,” the man intoned. 

Them?

Ryan was left to fidget awkwardly in the hallway with its art and statues for only a minute. When the butler returned and motioned for him to follow, he was honestly a little surprised. He had half been expecting to be kicked out. 

He was more surprised when he walked into what must have been Lucifer’s dining room and a scene of such common domestic bliss that he thought for one bewildered second that he was in the wrong mansion. 

Lucifer was sitting at a large table, her phone in one hand as she idly picked up a waffle and nibbled on it. There was a cup of coffee at her elbow and she was wearing soft, loose pajamas.

Ryan wasn’t sure if he was more surprised by Satan wearing a matching cotton pajama set or that fact that she was eating fucking Eggos. Not that he had anything against Eggos, but the idea that _Lucifer_ both knew about them and liked them well enough to eat them for breakfast was mind boggling. 

The man who had interrupted them during their meeting at Lucifer’s office building was sitting next to her, recognizable from his friendly smile that flashed startling white against his dark skin. He looked like he thought he was in a commercial for toothpaste. There was even a folded newspaper next to his empty plate. 

Ryan wasn’t too proud to admit that he was gawking. 

“I had a feeling you would show up, Bergara,” Lucifer said, not looking up from her phone. 

The weirdly warm and smooth feeling of the parchment in his hands reminded Ryan why he was there. He took a deep breath. “I need your help.”

“Of course you do,” she said absently. “Tom, be a dear and get me a glass of that ‘37 Glenfiddich? I get the feeling I’m going to need it.”

The man next to her chuckled quietly and patted her arm. “I don't think so. But eat more of your waffle and I’ll get you something.”

Lucifer rolled her eyes but took a bigger bite, pointedly chewing and swallowed. Then she sat down both her phone and the waffle and finally turned towards Ryan. She didn’t seem to pay attention as Tom stood up and walked past Ryan and out of the room. 

From that close, Ryan expected to get a feeling of power from this ‘Tom’, since it only made sense that he was a demon. But he got nothing. Either Tom was an extremely powerful demon that could hide said power or…

Or he was completely human. And Ryan had no idea what that would mean. 

“So Nahash went and left, didn’t he?”

Ryan’s head snapped back towards Lucifer. “What? How did you-”

Lucifer waved a dismissive hand. “Even if I hadn’t felt the power released, this entire city has been abuzz for the past two hours with rumor and speculation. Nahash always did like being dramatic.”

“So it’s true?” Ryan hesitated, but made himself continue. “He really did leave?”

“Oh yes. Nahash is no longer on this plane.”

Right. Okay. He had suspected that. But having it confirmed made nausea rise up and his chest constrict. Fuck, Shane had only been gone for two hours and he already missed him. 

“Now, are you going to show me that contract or did you just come to bother me?”

Ryan’s grip on the parchments tightened as he suddenly felt oddly protective of them. They were the last thing Shane had give him; they were important. He didn’t want to just give them over to Lucifer. But he couldn’t read the curling letters of the writing and he doubted anyone that wasn’t a demon would be able to, either. 

And he didn’t have many demons he could trust. 

Shakily, he stepped forward and laid the bunch of papers on the table, staying out of reach of Lucifer. Not that he thought distance would do him any good if she tried something, but it made him feel better. 

Lucifer smirked at him but delicately picked up the first page without a word. After a few seconds of reading, her smirk slowly fell into a thoughtful frown. Ryan wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. 

Halfway through reading all of the pages, Tom returned. He brushed past Ryan with a polite ‘Excuse me,’ and placed a glass of something that smelled fruity next to Lucifer’s coffee. He kissed her on the top of the head, nodded to Ryan, and left again. 

Absently, Lucifer picked up the glass with her free hand and took a sip. “Thank you, dear. Even if its apple juice,” she called after Tom. Then she glanced up at Ryan. “Your Nahash is both an idiot and very cunning.”

Ryan clenched his fingers together and told himself to not act annoyed. This was _Lucifer_. “Can you clarify that statement?”

She smiled at him, obviously amused by his reaction. “This isn’t court, Bergara, no need to be so formal. If you want to yell at me, please do. Your anger and fear is remarkably delicious.”

For some fucked up reason, Ryan’s initial reaction wasn’t anger that she was tasting his emotions, but anger that she thought she had a right to. _If any demon is going to feed off of me, it’s going to be Shane_ -

Wait. 

What the _fuck_ was wrong with him?

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, then drew in a calming breath. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer snorted softly, but did turn her attention back towards the parchment. “Poor Aeshma probably thought he was getting quite a bargain. But dealing with the human law system dulled his edge. There are loopholes all over this thing.”

“What does it say?” Ryan asked, leaning forward. Urgency was a constant thrum under his thoughts. He couldn’t stop Gibson without Shane and at any moment, someone else could be killed as a sacrifice. 

“At its most basic, this contract states that Nahash was to leave this plane within forty-eight hours of the contract being signed.”

Ryan fumbled over his own words as he yelped, “What? Why?! Why would he ever agree to that?”

Lucifer looked up at him over the edge of the parchment. “Because this contract also states that Aeshma would do nothing to harm you, either by action or inaction, for the rest of your natural life.”

Abruptly, Ryan felt like he needed to sit down. He locked his knees and ignored the intense feeling of despair that swept over him.

Of course Lucifer felt that, though. She actually rolled her eyes at him. “Calm down. I trust you remember what I said about loopholes? Since it was maybe a minute ago?”

Ryan nodded and ignored the mocking, trying not to hope. 

“All it says is that Nahash has to leave. Not that he can’t come back.”

This time, Ryan really did slump forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the table. “Oh thank God.”

Then he flinched, because _oh God, I just thanked God in front of Lucifer, oh God, wait, no, stop thinking about God-_

She didn’t seem to notice his turmoil as she flipped through the pages again. “Of course, if you wait for him to get around to it, you might be waiting a few hundred years.”

Ryan stared at her. “What? Why? He knows how important this is, he knows we need to stop Gibson.”

“Why would he care?”

Hit by a strong sense of deja vu as he remembered Shane saying the same thing the night before about the headless body they had left in that abandoned building, Ryan could only stare at her, wide-eyed. 

Lucifer raised one eyebrow. “He’s currently where he belongs, completely intact and one with his power for the first time in centuries. He’s not going to want to give that up any time soon.”

“He belongs _here_ ,” Ryan said, just barely stopping himself from saying ‘with me’. He wasn’t quite that far gone yet. 

Slowly, deliberately, Lucifer sat down the pages. She clasped her hands in front of her. “Allow me to explain something to you in a way that I think you’d understand.”

Ryan bristled at the condescension, but said nothing. 

“Imagine you’re walking through a forest. The largest forest you’ve ever seen, with trees in hundreds of miles in every direction. And you come across one particular tree that catches your attention. You crouch down and what do you see? Ants. A little colony of tiny, tiny, ants.” She lifted one hand, pinching her fingers together to demonstrate just how small she was talking about. “They’re pointless little creatures, scurrying around and not doing much of interest. But you’re bored and they’re better than nothing but trees. So you become one for a little while. You observe their cute little lives and wars and maybe one or two is more interesting than the others, but you never forget that they’re just ants.”

Ryan was getting very tired of demons using metaphors as if he was a kindergartner. 

Lucifer smiled smugly, reading his irritation. “And then, for whatever reason, you quit pretending to be an ant. And you can see the forest again. And you’re reminded of just how beautiful the trees are, of how much you missed seeing the forest while you were focused on this one single, tiny colony of _insects_. Why would you want to go back to those ants? There’s so much more out there for you to see and explore.”

“All you had to do was say ‘ants’. Humans have heard this before, you didn’t need to-”

“Of course, one of those ants could always try to summon you.”

Ryan faltered mid-sentence. He hadn’t thought of that. He had forgotten one of the fundamental aspects of dealing with demons. _Summoning_ them. His mind started racing. What all did he need to summon a demon? A circle, he knew that. And the demon’s real name, which he knew-

“How do you summon an angel?” he blurted without second thought.

Lucifer outright grinned. “So the rumors are true. He did reveal himself. No wonder your fear has been so great since you walked into my humble little home. Never thought I was real, did you?”

Ryan swallowed so hard that it hurt. “I would guess that it’s harder than summoning a regular demon,” he said, hoping desperately that Lucifer wouldn’t continue with her vague threatening. He would only be able to get through this conversation by pretending that she was as human as she appeared. 

Making a little moue of disappointment at his steady response, Lucifer shrugged. “Of course it is. We don’t need to be summoned by every little insect with delusions of grandeur. It’d be so tedious.”

_'We'._

_Fuck._

“What do I need to do?”

Lucifer gestured her hand and a small tattered book thumped onto the table from out of nowhere. She flipped it open, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell wafting from it. “Here,” she gestured at the book. “It won’t force him here, but it will definitely catch his attention and open the way.”

Ryan leaned forward, squinting at the book. 

The writing looked like a mess of scrawling loops. 

“Uh…”

Judging by the sly smirk, Lucifer knew exactly what the problem was. “You can’t read Ge’ez? Disgraceful.”

Was Lucifer teasing him?

That was almost terrifying. 

She scoffed at his reaction and gestured again. This time a couple pages of plain printer paper appeared in front of him. Typed neatly across the surface, like something out of a cookbook, was a set of instructions and ingredients in English. Even a diagram.

He read the first one and nearly choked. “Human blood?!”

Lucifer smirked. “You’re summoning a demon, Bergara. What did you think it would take?”

Ryan quickly scanned through the rest, growing more and more stunned with each item. Fae blood, frankincense, myrrh, saltpeter, and banshee hair were just amongst the ones he recognized. And at least two were illegal. 

Right at the bottom of the list was a word that Ryan wished hadn’t been translated. 

Sacrifice. 

He reached out and lightly drug his fingertip under the word. “Does this mean-” He couldn’t finish the question. 

Lucifer shrugged. “It means what it means.”

Ryan nodded. His face felt numb and he was shaking slightly. 

He couldn’t- There was no way he could-

_‘Trust Collins over Lucifer.’_

Right. Right, he would take this to Collins and he would get a second opinion. There was no use worrying about it now. 

“Lucy, you have an hour before your appointment,” Tom called softly from the doorway, startling Ryan. 

Lucifer made a face, reminding Ryan once again of how oddly human she was. “That’s your cue to leave, Bergara.” She stood up and started towards Tom. But halfway there, she pause. “You had better get this figured out. I would be rather upset if Aeshma succeeded in his plans. I’ve grown to like this little colony of ants.”

“Why don’t you do something to stop him?” Ryan asked before he could think better of it. 

“Because Aeshma would destroy California.” She glanced once at Tom. “But he can't destroy the world. As long as me and mine are safe, I don't really care _that_ much.”

That was the first thing she had said that made her sound like a demon.

Ryan wasn't sure why he was disappointed. 

\--------------------------------

It was a good thing Ryan had an excellent memory for detail, or he would have never found the building where they had met up with Collins. As it was, it had still taken too long for him to find someplace to park. And walking through the streets clutching a set of parchment, another set of regular paper, and a book that felt like it was older than the United States made him feel like a crazy person. 

Luckily, it was LA. No one really gave him a second glance. 

He knocked on the door set at the side of a club that he still didn’t know the name of and nearly swallowed his tongue when it was opened by a woman wearing glitter and not much else. That was not something he had been expecting.

This wasn’t the first time he had been greeted by a mostly nude person, since questioning witnesses in their homes meant that he had had his fair share of _interesting_ experiences. But this woman was so sparkly around the nipples that he was reasonably certain she would have been a flight hazard if she had been outside. 

“Uh,” he said intelligently. 

She glared, which was probably fair. “What do you want?”

Ryan shook his head slightly and straightened to his full height. She was wearing heels that made her tower over him, but it was the principle of the thing. “I need to speak with Collins.”

There was a short pause, her lips pursed as she narrowed her eyes at him, then she turned and yelled, “Jason! Some guy is at the door for you!” She waited impatiently for him to step inside, and as soon as the door was closed behind him, turned and sashayed away down the hallway. Her bright glitter against the peeling paint of the hallway was a shocking contrast. 

Collins appeared at the far end of the hallway, pausing for a moment to exchange a few words with the woman. He was in a different suit this time but it was just as well-fitted as the last one had been. 

And he didn’t look happy to see Ryan.

“Bergara,” he intoned, his face blank but for a faint sneer. “Madej is gone. There is no reason for you to be here.”

Ryan took a deep breath, reminded himself that Shane had told him to trust Collins, and thrust the parchments at the demon. “Shane said to bring this to you. That you’d be able to explain.”

It was a subtle face change, but for a moment, Collins’ jaw clenched, like he was biting back saying something. He took the bundle from Ryan with ill grace, each movement jerking and short. 

Was he angry about something? 

Collins started reading, flipping through each page at a faster and faster speed, his eyes darting back and forth across the page with growing excitement. Any anger he might have been feeling had apparently disappeared. 

“For being between two demons, this contact is remarkably inelegant,” Collins said absently, most of his attention on the last page. “It’s rushed and full of inconsistencies. I’m surprised either one agreed to it.”

“Lucifer said that Shane agreed to leave within a forty-eight power period in exchange for, well, my life.”

Collins raised one eyebrow at him, then glanced around, as if he had just remembered that they were in a fairly public space. Not that Ryan had seen anyone except the glittery woman. “Come with my to my office. There will be more privacy. And I feel like we will need some time.”

Ryan clutched tighter at the remaining book and papers in his hand, a nervous tic that he wasn’t happy about, but followed after Collins. They went through another hallway, then past an open door that was filled with -

That was a lot of naked women. 

“Is this a strip club?” Ryan asked before he could stop himself.

“No, it’s an accounting agency,” Collins said, dry as a bone. “Couldn’t you tell?”

Ryan surprised himself when he laughed, a short wheeze of sound. Well hell, the illegal demon had a sense of humor. And those suits sure weren’t bad to look at.

_Down, boy_.

A little disgusted at himself, Ryan forced his eyes to floor. He already had one demon, that was more than enough. 

_Though looking isn’t going to hurt anyone_.

Judging by the look Collins gave him when they stepped into a tiny office, his emotions had been a little obvious. Ryan just stared back. It was just as obvious that Collins worked at a strip club in order to feed off lust. Demons that lived in glasses houses shouldn't throw stones.

He was surprised when Collins picked up a pair of glasses off the weirdly clean desk and settled them onto his nose, sitting down to read over the contract again. Ryan was abruptly reminded of the fact that Shane wore glasses, too. And it made sense, since a demon could keep a host body at peak physical shape but couldn’t really improve it. If the body had bad eyesight, there wasn’t anything they could do. 

Still, it was odd to think about a fallen angel needing corrective lenses. When would he finally stop being surprised by all of this?

“So you’ve been to see Lucifer.”

Ryan snapped back to the present. “Yeah. Shane said that uh, I could trust her.”

Collin’s looked up at him over the top of his glasses. “Then why did you come to me?”

“Because he said I could trust you more.”

If he didn’t know any better, Ryan would have thought that Collins looked pleased by that. But his face was so impassive that it was hard to tell. “It’s true that I do have more interest in bringing Madej back to this plane and keeping him happy.”

“Why?” Ryan asked, a little suspicious. He would have thought that two fallen angels would have a better relationship between them than a fallen angel and a demon that wasn’t powerful enough to legally get a host.

“That is between him and I,” Collins said primly, laying the parchment down. He held out his hand. “Let me see what translation Lucifer gave you for the summoning spell.”

“You know the spell?”

Collins kept his hand out. “I recognize the book. I am surprise she let you walk away with it.”

Ryan’s thumb caressed the word ‘sacrifice’ before he reluctantly gave the pages over. If there was _any_ chance that he didn’t have to-

He kept his mind firmly away from the thought. 

Collins hummed to himself as he started to read, a more human reaction than most of his previous ones. He grabbed a pencil from a little cup holder that looked like it had been made by seven-year old during an arts and crafts class and began marking the page. “Most of this is unnecessary, since you’ve been possessed by Madej,” he said absently. “There’s already a connection.”

That was a relief, but- “Wait, you can tell?” Ryan did his best not to squirm in his chair, but that was oddly embarrassing. And despite himself, a little shameful. He hadn’t looked at his aura since he had found out the truth about Shane. Did it show? Did his aura have the ragged edges that came from feeding a demon? 

It was rather insulting when both of Collins’ eyebrows slowly went up. “I can’t decide if you’re disgustingly ignorant or charmingly naive.”

Ryan scowled and bit back the instinctual ‘fuck you.’ “Just tell me what I need to know to summon Shane.” Everything else could be ignored until later.

Collins sat down the papers. “A blessed site. Fae blood as the base, potassium nitrate and an object of power to be destroyed. Enough human blood to draw the circle and blood of the summoner.” He paused, one corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly. “And a lot of candles.”

“Why so much blood?” Ryan asked, making a face. 

“It could also be done with powdered bone, but that’s harder to come by or draw with.”

Ryan studied Collins’ expression to see if he was joking, but he got the feeling the demon was being entirely truthful. “No frankincense or myrrh?”

“An old trick to weed out those too poor to afford either. And there are religious connotations that would help the summoner make a connection with those of Madej’s…” Collins trailed off delicately. “Origin.”

A deep breath. It took two attempts to actually get the words out, but Ryan finally managed to say, “And the sacrifice?”

Collins waved a dismissive hand. “Relax, Bergara. A sacrifice means giving up something important. It doesn’t necessarily mean you have to go kill a human. Not that there aren’t plenty of transients that no one would miss.”

The way he said it was so disdainful that Ryan instinctively glared, despite the relief that was flooding him. “No one will notice one ant missing, is that it?”

Collins, surprisingly, actually laughed. “The tree metaphor? That is a favorite of Lucifer’s.”

Taken aback, Ryan’s anger drained away. Sometimes it was distressingly clear how apathetic demons were towards humanity as a whole. There was no use in arguing about it. Not now. “And what exactly does that mean? What counts as important?”

“Life is important," Collins said, leaning back in his chair. “And the easiest thing to destroy if one is unimaginative. The act of taking a life releases an incredible amount of power as well.”

“I know _that_ , I took the classes.”

Collins continued as if Ryan hadn’t said anything. “But it merely has to be something of significant emotional importance to the summoner. One warlock once summoned me by setting fire to his family home.”

Ryan was not going to do that.

The continual buzz of someone calling him jerked him back to the present. Ryan pulled his phone out of his pocket and ended the call, not bothering to check the number. 

With a weary sigh, he sat forward and pulled the papers closer to him, reading over Collin’s tidy handwriting. The previous plain laundry list of items and instructions was now neatly marked with additional explanations and steps, with a quite a few of the ingredients marked out. It looked easier now. And the fact that he wouldn’t have to kill someone was such a relief that he felt oddly weightless. Like he was untethered. 

“Why are you helping me?”

Collins tilted his head ever so slightly. “Because of Madej.”

“Why?”

Ryan could have sworn he heard Collins mutter, ‘Worse than my kids’ but that made no fucking sense. “Because I would not be what I am today without Madej.” He smiled slightly, a sardonic expression. “And he made a promise that he will not be able to keep if you can’t entice him back to this plane.”

So Collins did want something out of Shane. That made sense. Ryan felt a sense of rightness reassert itself, his perception of the world shifting back onto track. Having two different demons selflessly help him was not an idea he was prepared to deal with, even if he was accepting of the fact that Shane was one. 

He stood and gathered all of the papers and parchments into a pile, hesitating as he reached towards the book. It was obviously old and just as obviously valuable. Something made him push it towards Collins. “Keep it.”

Collins’ face managed to become even more blank. “I don’t need your charity.”

Ryan shook his head. “Payment. And I don’t need it. I can’t read the damn thing anyways, I’m not even sure why Lucifer gave it to me.”

There was a long moment of silence, then Collins reached out and pulled the small book towards himself. Ryan turned to leave, but just as his hand touched the doorknob, Collins said, “Madej has always been obsessed with humans.”

Knowing he would probably regret it, Ryan paused and turned back to look at Collins. 

“And that will save you.” Collins nodded towards the book. “This spell? Is powerful. But it’s not specific. It’s dangerous because anything in that plane of existence could answer it. But his love for humanity, the connection between the two of you? You will instinctually direct the call towards him. No other human could attract him the way you can.” 

Collins grew animated. There was actual emotion in his face. But for the life of him, Ryan couldn’t begin to interpret it. “It’s a cycle. Time and again, he finds a human to obsess over, then blames himself when something inevitably happens to them. Because he could have rewritten time. He could have shifted the universe to save those he cared about. But he didn’t. Because the laws of reality are not meant to be broken. 

Ryan opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Collins continued before he could get any words out. “Parents. A brother. A sister. A lover in the Yucatán.” He paused, something wry in his tone. “An angry old woman in the late Tang Dynasty. A village in Africa, at the dawn of civilization. All humans killed by humans. And not once did he do what is in his power to do.”

“I don’t know what-”

“I do believe that he would break those laws to keep you with him.” Collins carefully sat down his pen with a click that echoed in the small room. “He would go against the fabric of fate and the mandates of Heaven for you.”

_‘For you, I wish I was mortal.’_

Ryan swallowed. “You’re being a little dramatic, there.”

“No. Because he almost did it for me.”

The words didn’t make sense. No matter how many times they repeated themselves in his head, Ryan couldn’t understand them. All he could do was ask, “What?”

Collins smiled. “I died over a thousand years ago to poison. He gave me a choice. I chose this one.”

“What one? What choi-” the significance of his words dawned on Ryan. He choked on his own saliva, then managed, “You were human?!”

If anything, Collins smile actually went wider. “Do be careful, Bergara. I don’t know what would happen to Madej if he had to break all of the rules to bring you back.”

“But how?! Demons are _demons_ , they’re not-”

“Goodbye, Bergara.”

“But-”

“ _Goodbye_.”

\--------------------------------

Somehow Collins had managed to get Ryan out of the building without answering a single question more. It was ridiculously frustrating. Just one more piece to the puzzle that was demons. It felt like every time he learned something new, some kind of tidbit, it spawned twice as many questions. Not that he seemed to ever actually get answers. So he sat in Shane’s car and studied the page of instructions. 

The amazing thing was that it looked rather simple. If one could get all of the ingredients. And he was fairly certain that he could. 

Except for the blood. It was tempting to think he could just bleed himself, but judging by the diagram that had been laid out, it would take far more blood to draw the circle than he actually possessed in his body. 

Could he get blood bags from an ambulance somehow? It would be difficult, but it would have to be easier than trying to steal from a hospital. Not that he wanted to steal anything, but there was no way he could get away with waltzing into a private blood bank for vampires and buying a bunch of blood. Nor did he have that kind of money. 

Ryan bit his lip, the feeling of his teeth pinching his flesh making him think of someone that might be able to help. He _did_ know a vampire, after all. One that already knew about Shane. 

Right as he turned on the screen of his phone, it buzzed in his hand. He jumped, startled, then rolled his eyes when he saw it was a local number he didn’t recognize. It was probably a telemarketer. That would be just his kind of luck, to get a call from a telemarketer when he was in the middle of planning how to summon a fallen angel to defeat a demon.

Still, if it was someone calling him about information for some other case, one of the numerous ones he was working on that he had almost forgotten about in the last couple of days, he needed to answer. 

Just because one crisis was happening, it didn’t mean the others stopped. 

Reluctantly, he answered the call with, “Bergara speaking.”

“Ryan,” breathed a woman’s voice, one he thought he recognized. “Oh thank God you answered.”

“Who is this?” 

“Don’t call whoever you were thinking of calling.”

Ryan made some kind of choked off noise of confusion. “What?”

“It’s Chloe. Um, Chloe Walsh.” Abruptly, the woman sounded very young and unsure. “The um, the banshee?”

Holy shit, he had completely forgotten about that trip. It was the entire reason he even knew that Gibson had been sacrificing people. “Ms. Walsh, why are you calling me? How did you get this number?”

“You can’t do what you were thinking of doing,” she said, saying it so fast her words tripped together. “If you do, you die.”

A cold wash of fear flowed through Ryan. When a banshee said a person was going to die, it was best to pay attention. “What do you mean? The summoning?”

He _had_ to summon Shane, he couldn’t handle Gibson on his own and he wasn’t going to endanger his coworkers or some poor unprepared exorcist. 

“Summoning? Who are you-” Chloe hesitated. “No, don’t tell me, the more I know the more likely it is that I’ll interpret the visions wrong. But I’m talking about whoever you were about to call. If you continue, you’ll die in ten hours.”

“Are you saying Yang will betray me?” Ryan hissed into the phone, anger fighting with despair. The idea that someone he had worked next to for years would betray him was inconceivable. But banshees were never wrong. They might interpret something the wrong way, but what they actually saw would always come to pass if nothing was changed. 

“No,” Chloe said. “Or, I don’t think so? I don’t know.” She sounded very frustrated. “I saw a vampire dieing next to you. So if that’s him, he probably wouldn’t betray you. But something about the situation doesn’t work for either of you. 

Oh. That was even worse. 

“Fuck,” Ryan whispered, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Now there was no way he was going to try and ask Yang to procure blood for him. Who else did he know that might have access to unregistered blood? Despite the anti-preternatural rhetoric, there actually weren’t that many species that ate humans. It was mostly vampires, wendigos, and some of the mer clans.

A name popped into his head. 

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. “Whatever you decided to just do, go with that. You won’t die tonight.”

Her certainty was chilling. 

“Thank you for calling me,” Ryan said as politely as he could, since keeping him from getting himself and a friend killed deserved at least that much. 

“The Bergaras are my family now. I won’t make the same mistake twice. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”

She abruptly hung up before Ryan could reply. He stared at his phone for a few seconds, unsure the conversation had even taken place. It had been so random. And he wouldn't have been surprised if he was one step away from a psychotic break.

But he didn’t have the luxury of doing nothing but freaking out. So he called the only other person he could think of to help. 

“Hey Wendy? I’ve got a favor to ask.”

\--------------------------------

Ryan stared up at the old, half-broken sign of Pech’s pawnshop and allowed himself one long dramatic sigh. He really hadn’t wanted to resort to this. 

The inside of the store looked like it hadn’t changed in the least. Did anyone actually buy anything here or was it entirely a front for selling illegal spell ingredients? He dodged under the dangling tags of the hanging guitars once again, a weird sense of deja vu making him feel like he was in a dream. 

It had only been a handful of days since he had last been here. When he was was worried that Shane was a _warlock_. 

Pech looked up from his book, his welcoming smile a shadow of the expression it had been the first time they had met. “Bergara. I guess the rumors are true if you’re in here without Madej.”

Ryan hesitated. “What rumors?”

“An angel appearing in the City of Angels.” 

“You know-” Ryan cut himself off, but Pech nodded as if he had said a complete sentence. 

“I’m not surprised. So I take it you need something from me to summon Kukulkan back?”

Ryan blinked. “Yes. How did you know why I’m here?”

A spark of good humor made Pech grin wide. “I doubt you would be here to arrest me for selling bone charms by yourself.”

It wouldn’t do any good to protest that he had never planned to arrest Pech. So Ryan merely took a deep breath and forced himself to willingly and knowingly break the law. “I need fae blood.”

Pech actually reared back, both eyebrows disappearing into his hair. “You know what you’re asking?”

Ryan grimaced and nodded. 

For once, the smile dropped completely off of Pech’s face. “If I have any, and I’m not saying I do, I need your promise that you won’t turn me in.”

“I won’t.”

“Swear on it.”

“I promise-”

“Swear on your power.”

Ryan stuttered, falling silent. Only demons, warlocks, and the fae swore on their power, a binding oath that couldn’t be broken. Since he wasn’t any of those, it made no sense for Pech to demand it. But the serious expression told Ryan that the man wouldn’t accept anything else. So he solemnly said, “I swear on my power that I will not turn you in.”

It was just words. And he was merely human. 

So he wasn’t expecting the tug in his gut, the shift in his aura, the inaudible click that reverberated in his ears. 

“The fuck was that?” Ryan exclaimed, running his hands over his stomach, even though the tug had been purely metaphysical. 

Pech looked pitying, but he didn’t answer Ryan’s question. He just heaved himself up from his chair and gestured to be followed. 

Ryan was sorely tempted to stand there, to refuse to move until he got some answers. That oath shouldn’t have worked. He knew damn well he wasn’t fae or a demon. And he hadn’t signed any contracts with a demon, he hadn’t done a single fucking thing to make him a warlock. 

It _shouldn’t have worked_. 

A rising suspicion threatened to choke him, but he shoved it away. 

_Not now_.

He followed Pech through a door behind the counter, locking his fear in a corner of his mind and ignoring it. Pech muttering to himself as he rifled through a fridge filled to the brim with blood bags was plenty distracting, anyways. 

Ryan couldn’t help but stare. That was a lot of blood. 

“Is any of that human?” He didn’t entirely hide the accusation in his voice, despite the fact that he honestly wanted to know. If Pech had enough blood to draw a circle with, he wouldn’t need to involve Wendy. 

But Pech just shook his head. “Fae, ‘wolf, mer, some dryad. No human. I’m not gonna get into a fight with vampires for that racket. How much do you need?”

“Less than a pint.”

Pech brought out two bags and gently placed them into a little cooler. “Take one extra, just in case.”

Ryan took the handle of the proffered cooler, confused at how easy this had been. “Uh, how much do I owe you?”

With a shake of his head, Pech smiled at him. “Nothing. I would do much more for the return of Kukulkan. He is…” Pech trailed off, then said something. It almost sounded Spanish. But while Ryan couldn’t speak Spanish worth a damn, he could usually get the gist of it when it was spoken to him. Whatever Pech had said, it was something else. 

“I don’t-”

Pech’s smile widened. “It will be interesting to see what happens. Good day, Bergara. Feel free to return if you ever find yourself in need of more ingredients.”

Ryan stumbled out of the store, holding a cooler of illegal blood and still confused. 

After all of this was over, he was taking a vacation. A long one. With no demons. 

Maybe with Shane. 

Assuming that his plan worked. 

He downright scuttled towards Shane’s car, hoping no one would notice what he was carrying. The sound of someone hissing his name nearly made him jump out of his skin. He whirled around, heart pounding. 

Wendy was parked two spots from him, hunched awkwardly over her steering wheel. Watching her drive was always a painful experience, since few cars were made to accomodate for antlers. She rolled her window down farther and said louder, “Ryan, why the fuck am I in the ass end of nowhere?”

“It took you barely forty-five minutes to get here, it’s not nowhere.”

“I had never even heard of this city, and I’ve done bar crawls in every county from San Diego to San Luis Obispo.”

Ryan paused. “I am both impressed and concerned. Let me just-” He hastily shoved the cooler into the back seat of Shane’s car, then gestured to Wendy to unlock her passenger door. As soon as she did, he opened the door and slid into the seat. “Roll up the window.”

Wendy did as he said, turning her head as far as she could to give him a look. “What’s with all the cloak and dagger stuff? Are we about to knock over a gas station? Are we playing cops and robbers?”

“Not...quite,” Ryan said. He knew that what he was about to ask would be tricky at best. At worst, he’d irrevocably offend one of his closer friends. “Have you heard the rumors about the angel from this morning?”

“Yeah, my friend won’t stop texting me conspiracy theories about it.”

_Here goes nothing_. “I’m summoning him.”

Wendy stared. “You what?”

“I’m going to summon him.”

Looking around, as if expecting to find cameras, Wendy scoffed. “Where’s Shane? I can’t see him agreeing to this kind of dumb joke.”

“He’s not here.”

It was nerve wracking to watch Wendy put the pieces together. She had always been bright. Ryan hadn’t been joking when he told her she should have joined the Academy. In the moment, he wished she wasn’t as intelligent as she was. The shock and surprise he could handle. The sudden anger was harder. 

Wendy’s antlers scraped across the roof of her car as she turned fully towards him, baring her teeth in a snarl. “Why did you call _me_ , Bergara?” she asked in a low voice. 

“I need blood,” Ryan admitted, ignoring the sting of shame. “Human blood. Enough to draw a very intricate circle.”

“And you thought ‘I’ll just ask the wendigo’, did you?”

“Wendy, I’m sorry. I didn’t have anyone else I could call.”

With a jerk of her head that looked like it hurt, Wendy faced forward again, her mouth a thin line. The silence was long and uncomfortable. 

_Shit, is she crying_?

Tears were leaking down Wendy’s cheek, but she wasn’t making a single sound. Abruptly, Ryan felt like a complete and utter jackass. “Fuck, Wendy, no, I’m sorry, I was going to ask a coworker but a banshee told me not to and I-” Aware that he was about to say more than he should, Ryan shut his mouth and reached out to awkwardly rest his hand on Wendy’s arm. 

“You know I’ve never once tasted human flesh. Every holiday, I go home, and my family makes these amazing meals, and every time I say no. I have human friends, I’m not going to be the stereotype that they’re afraid of. It doesn’t matter that they’re bodies bought from funeral homes, that we pay thousands of dollars for them. I refuse because maybe, just maybe, if I can tell a human I’ve never eaten one of them, they won’t be afraid of me. That they won’t look at me and just see a monster.”

“Wendy…”

“I thought you were different.”

Ryan hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so much shame. “I-”

“You just assumed I would know how to find human blood, didn’t you?”

All Ryan could do was miserably nod.

“Well, I don’t.”

Ryan closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. Fuck. 

Sounding like each word was being drug out of her, Wendy haltingly said, “I know someone that might.”

Ryan’s eyes flew open. 

Wendy held up her hand. “If I… If I do this? Don’t ever call me again.”

It felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest. Now Ryan was the one to fight back a sudden welling of tears. His instinctual gut reaction was to tell her that he would do something else. That he would find another way. He couldn’t lose his friend.

But he couldn’t lose Shane.

And they didn’t have _time_. Every hour that passed was one where some innocent could be killed. And if it was a choice between Wendy and Shane? He would pick Shane. No matter how much it hurt him. 

“I don’t have a choice,” Ryan said softly. 

“You always have a choice, Ryan. Always.”

\--------------------------------

Breaking into the chapel at the Calvary Mortuary had been disturbingly easy. Even getting past the church grim had taken nothing more than a whispered explanation to a being that had looked far too understanding for being in the shape of a dog. 

Getting the candles and saltpeter from Kornfield had also been easy. The medical examiner had been in the midst of one of his alchemical experiments when Ryan had sidled into work at ten o’clock at night. Too distracted by the burbling flasks and pots, he had merely thrust a package of candles and container of powder into Ryan’s arms and waved him away. 

Thank God Kornfield usually took the late shift. There was no way Ryan would have recognized potassium nitrate by himself. 

Conversely, stepping out of his car in the parking lot of a Wal-Mart to accept the cooler of blood from Wendy had been one of the hardest moments of his life. The way she had avoided his gaze throughout the exchange was going to haunt him for years, he knew. 

He was certain he had lost a friend today. 

Ryan awkwardly passed the holy water font, consciously making the decision to not dip his fingers into the water, to not cross himself, despite the habitual urge to do so. He already felt blasphemous as it was, breaking into a chapel to summon a demon. Even if it was technically an angel. 

But he would walk into this ritual covered in his sins. 

The flashlight he had brought with him was apparently useless, as he could see in the darkened chapel just fine. It was as if everything had been lit by a dim light. The logistics of that didn’t even make sense. If, for a reason he didn’t want to think about, he could now see in the dark, everything should have been in shades of gray. 

He could see the colors of everything around him perfectly clearly. 

It was just one more in a list of things he was ignoring. 

The pile of candles, coolers, and papers in front of the altar looked wildly out of place. Even the candles were cheap and red, probably bought from an office supply catalogue. Nothing like the white votive candles that were carefully placed on the wall to his left. 

For one wild second, Ryan thought about running away. About gathering his family and and just leaving the state entirely. 

He wasn’t sure he could do this. That he could draw a circle to summon a demon. A month ago, the concept of him breaking the law multiple times over and using his own blood and power to summon a _demon_ would have been completely unthinkable. 

_‘I have faith in you.’_

Damn it. He had to try. He needed Shane. And as dramatic as it sounded, even in his own head, Los Angeles needed Shane. 

So he took a deep breath and began drawing the largest, most intricate summoning circle he had ever seen. 

Checking frequently with the diagram Lucifer had so thoughtfully provided him, Ryan slowly and painstakingly drew each symbol and line with a paintbrush he had had to buy at the Wal-Mart he had met Wendy at. It took him hours. He had to pause frequently to re-wet the brush and to stand back and make sure it all looked right. 

The smell of blood became cloying, which made no sense. He was used to the smell of blood. But with each brush stroke, it felt like the scent was crawling down his throat, permanently stuck in his sinuses. It soon got to where he thought he could taste it every time he swallowed. 

There was power gathering around him and he hadn’t uttered a single word. 

As soon as the last line was connected in the circle, the world shifted. It felt like Ryan was suddenly occupying a different space. A different dimension. As if the real world was one step away from where he was. 

He moved on instinct, no longer entirely aware of his actions. It would have been terrifying if there hadn’t been a kind of comfort in moving on auto-pilot. 

Ryan drew in his will and gestured with both hands. The wick of every candle in the building burst into flame, not just the cheap ones he had placed around the circle. He blinked slowly. That wasn’t supposed to have happened. He had never had the kind of power needed to do something like that. 

Something else to ignore. 

The original translation Lucifer had provided had said that the next part required a powerful chalice. Collins had crossed that out and written that any container would do. 

So Ryan poured half the bag of fae blood into a red Solo cup. He thought Shane might appreciate the bro symbolism. Or never let him live it down. Either way. 

He carefully placed the cup in the center of the circle and settled onto his knees before it. It only took a second to roll his sleeves up, then he pulled a knife out of his pocket and set the blade against the underside of his arm, closer to his elbow than his wrist. 

Contrary to what it might have looked like, he had no intention of endangering his life tonight. 

There was a pause, a second where he questioned if he was really going to cut himself with a knife he had swiped from the spell supply closet at work. But the power swirling around him didn’t allow him to stop. 

The blade bit into his skin, painless at first. Blood welled up and started to drip steadily down his arm, just as the cut began to burn and throb. Ryan bit his lip, distantly afraid that he had cut deeper than he meant to. 

Something made him switch the knife to his other hand and cut a mirroring line on his other arm. This cut was just as deep. Soon blood was staining the legs of his pants. He sat the knife down and held both arms over the cup. 

Fae blood was pale compared to a human’s. A delicate pink. Ryan watched his blood drip into it, dark red swirling into the pink. It was mesmerizing. He couldn’t look away as he began to chant. 

He hadn’t memorized the words. The paper with Collins’ pronunciations written on it was just outside the circle, waiting for him. Apparently he didn’t need it. Each word was pulled out of him without conscious effort, a continual roll of syllables falling from his lips that he didn’t understand. 

With grace that he normally didn’t have, he drew out the container of potassium nitrate and unscrewed the lid. A pinch of the powder was sprinkled into the cup of blood, making it boil and froth. 

Ryan was fairly certain saltpeter shouldn’t cause that reaction. 

Words were tumbling out of his mouth faster and faster, the chanting raising to a fever pitch. There was only two things left to do in the spell; destroying an object of power and the sacrifice. And Ryan had both hanging around his neck. 

The _need_ to keep chanting prevented him from swallowing, but even with the incessant weight of the power swirling around him, forcing him to continue, he hesitated before pulling his medallion off. 

It was, truthfully, his most favored possession. It represented so much love and protection that it felt like he was stabbing himself in the heart at even the thought of destroying it. It had saved his life multiple times. And it pulsed with power, both from his family’s love and Shane. 

But he needed Shane. 

With strength that he shouldn’t have possessed, he held the medallion over the cup and snapped it in half. As soon as both halves dropped into the cup, there was a soundless, lightless explosion of power. 

The candle flames whipped in a wind that Ryan couldn’t feel, stuttering and flaring in a frenzy that was almost hypnotic. One last word was ripped from Ryan’s throat, leaving it sore and raw. 

A tense silence fell. 

Ryan held his breath. He could feel the power swirling around him, like it was searching for something. The spell was done but it was incomplete, the world still shifted away from him. 

Nothing was happening. 

He tilted his head back and rested his arms on his thighs, closing his eyes as exhaustion swept over him. 

The cuts on his arms were still dripping. They should have stopped by now, but there was a pull at his veins, as if the spell was demanding more and more of his blood. He felt a dim fear at that. And yet he was too tired to really care. Too tired to try and cover the cuts with his hands. 

His fingers were starting to tingle and the floor under his knees was unforgivingly hard. 

Both sensations felt too distant to be real. 

Everything was experienced through a film of weariness. Candlelight flickered, patterns from behind his eyelids that were somehow comforting. The copper smell of blood and acrid smoke stinging his nostrils, the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

The swiftly cooling blood running down his arms and soaking into his pants. 

“C’mon, you asshole,” Ryan muttered hoarsely to himself. “I just gave up my fucking St. Michael’s medallion for you.”

_Sacrifice_.

“I broke laws for you, Nahash,” he continued, almost conversational. “Laws I swore to uphold.”

A heavy weight bore down on his aura, as if some presence had turned its attention towards him. 

Ryan swayed forward, limply bracing himself with one weak hand. “I sacrificed my friendship with Wendy for you, Azazel.” 

Alien intrigue washed over him. 

“So get your ass down here, Shane,” he whispered. And weakly crumpled onto his side. 

He could no longer make out the flicker of candlelight or hear the pound of his heartbeat. 

His breathing slowed. 

_Oh, Ryan_.

A fond voice. 

Ryan didn’t know if it was real.

_You idiot_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with [art!](http://mephsation.tumblr.com/post/180254934176/art-by-the-wonderful-soft-cryptids-for-my-fic)


	13. Chapter 13

There was a chest under his ear, moving his head up and down with each breath.

Ryan opened his eyes, only able to see out the one with the way his face was pressed into the body under him. The room was dark, but he could just make out an old movie poster and a rack filled with his sneakers under it.

This was his dorm room from college. He hadn’t had that crinkled, half-ripped poster in years. But when he looked down, he recognized the tan, cotton sheets as belonging to Shane.

_This is a dream._

The half-heard thought made him relax, snuggling into the warmth of the man he now recognized as Shane. He realized that he was half sprawled over his partner, one hand tucked under Shane’s lower back, palming the expanse of skin. There were scales running down Shane’s spine, but in the hazy, surreal way of dreams, Ryan didn’t care. With a quiet, content little sigh, he murmured Shane’s name lazily, just because he could.

The arms looped around his shoulders shifted, a hand trailing up his back, nails that he knew were claws scratching across one shoulder blade. Shane made a questioning little noise.

_Well, this is cozy._

“We should get up,” Ryan said slowly. There was something wrong with his voice. It sounded too rough, too deep, as if he had been gargling with gravel. He dismissed it as unimportant.

Shane sighed, moving both arms off of Ryan to stretch, twisting his length under Ryan in a sinuous way that no human body should have been able to do. “Too soon,” Shane muttered, hissing the ‘s’. “Alarm didn’t go off yet.”

Ryan idly realized he couldn’t hear or feel a heartbeat in Shane’s chest. It didn’t matter, though, since the man was obviously alive. “It’s a Sunday, we didn’t turn it on.”

The soft, domestic feel of being curled up together was so relaxing, so comfortable, that Ryan was tempted to ignore the urging of the dream telling him that he needed to move forward. There was something he needed to learn. Something important.

“You should go to the bathroom first,” Shane said, still hissing the sibilants as he drug the sheet off Ryan. “You won’t want to be in there when I’m done with it.”

Ryan raised his head just so he could make a face at Shane, digging his nails into the scales on Shane’s spine in retaliation. “We’re getting an apartment with two bathrooms.”

_Ryan._

Shane laughed, wriggling away from his nails. His teeth were sharp and jagged. “In this economy?”

Grumbling, Ryan slid off of the bed and padded his naked way across the room, looking back to catch a glimpse of Shane laying on the bed, burnt feathered wings spread out underneath him. Those hadn’t been there earlier, but Ryan couldn’t seem to care.

Between one step and the next, Ryan was in his old bathroom in his parents’ house. He didn’t think anything of it as he went about his business, yawning into a hand tipped with short, dark claws.

It was as he was brushing his teeth that he happened to glance into the mirror.

The toothbrush clattered into the sink.

Shane was standing in the doorway that had been closed a second ago, his vibrant green snake eyes peering at him in concern. “Ryan? You okay?”

_Ryan, wake up._

Ryan couldn’t look away from the mirror, couldn’t tear himself from the sink, drowning terror pooling through his body and rooting him in place.

“Ryan?”

His reflection stared back at him, pure black eyes wide in horror.

_Ryan! Wake up!_

The dream snapped.

Ryan opened his eyes in time to find himself lurching to the side, his weak arm unable to support his weight as he ended up limply spread across the summoning circle. His fall tipped several candles over. He could hear them rolling around behind him, but he didn’t have the energy to care if they were still burning.

He closed his eyes, longing to go back to sleep, even if it meant going back to the nightmare.

_Don’t you dare._

Ryan jerked, dragging his eyes open, unsure if he had actually heard anything. It hadn’t sounded like Shane, but the tone had been so familiar that he could have sworn Shane had been right behind him.

_Look up._

He followed the instruction, expecting to see the vaulted ceiling of the chapel. Instead, like the roof of a tent, he saw the thinly stretched, glittering dark form of a demon curved over him. Beyond the layer of demon was _something_. Something that Ryan couldn’t quite get his eyes to focus on.

“Shane?” Ryan asked, hope and sudden fear making him struggle to sit up. The thought that this wasn’t Shane, that he had summoned the wrong demon thrummed through him, an unwelcome worry to add on top of all the others.

_Oh, now you worry about that._

Okay, yeah, that was Shane.

“What's going on?” The words were slurred, barely getting past lips that felt numb. “Why aren't you back in your-” body.

_I'm stuck in the circle_ you _created, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal. You need to break it._

Ryan rolled listlessly onto his back, vaguely aware that that made sense. His eye caught on the dark shimmer arched above him, the swirling hints of color mesmerizing. How had he ever thought demons were ugly? “Hi,” he muttered drunkenly.

The surging whatever-it-was that he could see through Shane's form shifted and seemed to push Shane down, making him contract into a smaller dome.

_I appreciate the admiration, really, I do, but you_ need _to break the circle._

Ryan let his head fall to the side, distantly amazed that he hadn't already broken the circle when collapsing. He squinted, noticing that each intricate curl of the runes surrounding him were still fresh and red, glistening wetly as if he had just painted them.

_Ryan!_

The urgency in the voice finally filtered through his exhausted haze and Ryan flailed one hand out, smearing his fingers through blood that should have already dried.

There was a wordless surge of relief that drowned out Ryan's thoughts, that made his head swim and caused the glimpses of the _thing_ above Shane to become nothing more than a surreal kaleidoscope of unnatural colors.

Faster than Ryan could blink, Shane contracted into a shadowy orb and shot towards him. He didn't have time to brace himself or even realize what was happening.

His eyes widened.

And then there was nothing.

Empty nothing.

It couldn't have been more than a second before his senses returned, before he could feel his body, but that brief second of weightless, sightless nothing could have been an eternity. Ryan held onto his consciousness with all the tenacity he could muster, afraid of going back into the endless emptiness.

_Sorry._ _I usually don’t let a host keep their awareness._

The words did nothing to calm Ryan. He tried to turn his head, to look up at the space where Shane had been.

Nothing happened.

_I can’t let you have control right now, Ryan._ There was a pause, a quiet moment of amusement. _I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Dave._

This was absolutely nothing like _2001_ and Shane would make a terrible HAL. Ryan’s indignation at Shane getting one of the most famous movie quotes in history wrong actually helped him to focus. To push past his fear and notice that there was still something swirling and pulsing above them.

_Oh right, that guy._

A wave of annoyance washed over Ryan, an emotion that wasn’t his own, and his body lifted one arm to make a short, lazy gesture. Light exploded, so bright that it should have blinded him. His eyes didn’t even water.

When the light faded away, it revealed the ceiling of the chapel. There was nothing odd or otherworldly in sight.

What the hell had just happened? Had Shane just banished another demon?

_I wasn’t the only thing that heard your call. I managed to turn off the blanket invitation you so generously broadcasted, but that guy got through.  What the hell made you think that was the best spell to use?_

A memory washed over Ryan, a scene like a snapshot, of Lucifer flipping through the old spell book she had given him.

_Lucifer. I should have guessed._

The words echoed through Ryan’s head with weary resignation. Ryan was confused. Why did Shane sound disappointed?

_The spell she gave you is not the one I had in mind. I thought you would go to Collins._

Did Lucifer try to trick him? It was a spell that had successfully brought Shane back, hadn't it? So why was Shane acting like this?

Abruptly, Ryan realized he didn't actually care. He was being _possessed_ . Even if it was Shane doing the possessing, he wanted his body back and he wanted it _now._

_You're the one that summoned me back and didn't bring my body, you get to deal with the consequences._

And exactly how the hell was he supposed to have provided Shane's body? Kidnap it from the hospital?

Ryan climbed to his feet, the presence in his head pointedly ignoring him. He was painfully aware that he wasn't the one that had told his body to stand up. His shoulders rose in a rolling shrug as Shane settled into his body, getting used to the feel of it. The sensation felt oddly like being a passenger in a car that someone else was driving.

He did his best to loudly project 'don't get comfortable’ at Shane.

His mouth curled into a smile that felt strange on his lips. Even without a mirror, Ryan could tell it wasn't _his_ smile.

There was a metaphysical tug that reminded Ryan of when he gathered his power to cast a spell, but it came from all around his body, not within him. Was that Shane’s power? Was he really so powerful that it couldn’t all be contained in one body?

A small gesture that revealed the cuts on his arms were completely healed, then the gathered power dissipated in a burst. The half-melted candles and circle of blood went up in a flame so intense that Ryan was sure it would have burnt his skin if he hadn’t been playing vessel to a demon.

They were really going to have to find a way to pay Father Luna back for the mess they had made of his church. There was soot and ash all over the place.

_You made the mess. You could have done this in the graveyard, that’s consecrated as well._

For every one driving past to see? Sure, people had a tendency to overlook a lot in LA, but someone would have called the police if they saw a guy drawing a summoning circle in blood.

Ryan got the sense that Shane was fondly exasperated, then suddenly it felt like muscles he didn’t actually have in his back twitched and flexed-

Weightlessness, darkness, faint nausea.

They were in front of a hospital, staring at the double doors of the main entrance. Ryan could see glimmering runes glowing around the border of the doors, and further inside, a plethora of warm energy and more healing runes. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of layers and layers of auras and the sparking symbols of enchantments in every direction. Before Shane did something that dimmed the second sight, there was also something else. Something that wasn’t quite a smell and wasn’t quite a taste, but made Ryan feel oddly hungry. Did demons see like that all the time? It had been so colorful and distracting, how were they not always overwhelmed?

_I’ve always seen like that. I’m not sure how humans can function._

Huh. That was a concept that Ryan had never thought of.

Shane walked his body through the door, the powerful anti-demon enchantments feeling like nothing more than cobwebs as he pushed through them. Christ, just how many powerful demons could easily walk into hospitals like this to steal bodies?

Wait, how had Shane known which hospital had his body?

_Fewer than you think. And I’ve spent years in that body, I always know where it is._

This late at night and far outside of visitor hours, the waiting rooms and hallways held only a fraction of the people Ryan was used to. Shane walked Ryan’s body right past the nurse at the front desk with such assured confidence that she didn’t do anything more than give him a narrow-eyed look. After that, each nurse and occasional doctor that saw them obviously assumed they had the right to be there.

_Your badge is still on your belt, Ryan. Though I’m enjoying your belief that I’m just that good of a conman._

Embarrassment was odd to experience when he couldn’t feel any corresponding physical responses. Was that true for all emotions? Was that why his earlier fear had felt distant?

_Do you always ask yourself this many questions? Your mind is exhausting_.

If he had been able to, Ryan would have flipped off Shane.

Shane laughed out loud, the sound quiet and foreign. It was nothing like Ryan’s real laugh. The surrealness of the situation made Ryan wonder if this had all been a dream. Maybe he was going to wake up in Kansas soon.

_Sorry, Toto, it’s all real._

Okay, Shane being able to read all of his thoughts was getting annoying. And potentially humiliating. He had a hard enough time controlling what he said out loud, let alone his inner thoughts. Oh God, what if he started thinking about something gross?

And because trying not to think of something made him all the more likely to think about it, he started remembering that time he had gotten food poisoning in college in the middle of a class and ended up running out of the classroom to spend the next two hours in a semi-public bathroom.

_Coming out both ends, eh?_

Ryan’s wordless scream of horror and indignation made Shane laugh out loud again, causing the nurse they were sharing the elevator with to side eye him. There came the faint whiff of something acidic but oddly tantalizing. Like someone was grilling?

_Chill, dude, there is literally nothing about bodily functions that shocks me. Just think about the diets of most of the population pre-globalization and then you can be horrified._

Ryan felt like his entire soul cringed. This odd mind reading thing they had going on was horrible. Telepathic superheroes in comic books suddenly got a lot more of his sympathy.  
  
Their embarrassing conversation distracted Ryan enough that he was surprised when Shane knocked on a door and let himself in.

Lim, Ilnyckyj, Fulmer, and Yang were all in the room, the latter two standing up as if they had been about to leave. Ryan’s eyes flicked to each of them, but Ryan’s actual attention was on Shane’s body. It was lying on the hospital bed, limp and pale. The only thing that relaxed Ryan was the faint beeping noises from all the machines hooked up to him, keeping his organs going.

“Bergara,” Lim said with obvious surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t want to see Madej?” Shane asked with a scowl, his posture defensive. It was exactly what Ryan would have done if he really had spent an entire day away from his partner’s lifeless body.

That acrid smell from earlier tickled his senses.

Lim held up his hands in surrender. “Just meant that it’s nearly four in the morning. When you didn’t answer your phone, we figured you were asleep and not coming.”

Shane slumped his shoulders, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. Which was more of a Shane tic than a Ryan tic and Ryan could feel Shane’s faint frustration at the realization. “Phone died.” Shane turned Ryan’s head to stare at his own body. “Wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways.”

“Did you get any leads on who did this or what spell they used?” Fulmer asked, stepping forward as he shrugged into a light jacket. He paused as he got closer to them, furrowing his brows to stare.

The damn scent or taste or _whatever_ it was grew stronger. It kept distracting Ryan.

Shane shook his head. “All dead ends. No one knew anything.”

“Everyone was probably paying more attention to the angel rumors than a demon attacking an officer,” Ilnyckyj said.

Shane didn’t repeat ‘angel’ incredulously, but Ryan could feel how he wanted to. Faint but real fear swept over him, Shane’s sudden worry sharpening Ryan’s attention. It was just rumors, surely it wasn’t that bad if people were talking about an angel in LA? Besides, Shane was the one who had decided a dramatic Sherlock-esque plunge off the roof would be a good idea. He had no one to blame but himself for the rumors.

Before Shane could say anything, Fulmer took another step forward, reaching out to almost but not quite touch Ryan's neck. “Wow, what the hell happened to you? You get attacked by a vampire? No offense, Eugene.”

Seriously? Shane had healed the cuts on Ryan’s arms but not the bruises on his neck?

On second thought, why was he even surprised?

“Uh…” Shane said in a credible impression of Ryan trying to come up with answer. But Ryan was more focused on Yang’s lack of response. The vampire was deathly still, staring at Ryan like a predator trapped by a bigger predator. He tried the mental equivalent of smacking Shane to get his attention, but Shane was having too much fun pretending to be a flustered Ryan.

“It’s nothing, it-”

“So,” Lim said, sounding delighted. “You and Madej finally-”

Fulmer’s mouth twitched into a suppressed grin. “Oh come on, you couldn’t have waited three more months? I had a twenty down on you guys getting your act together around then.”

“You were betting on us?!” Shane exclaimed, making Ryan’s voice go high-pitched.

“Of course we were,” Fulmer said. Then he frowned and sent an uncomfortable look at Shane’s body. “Shitty timing, I guess. We’ll help you get this figured out, Bergara.” He moved to pat Ryan’s arm.

Ryan would have been completely startled by Yang’s sudden dash forward, but demons apparently had faster reflexes than humans. Shane stepped backwards just as Yang grabbed Fulmer’s wrist, stopping him from touching Ryan.”

“Don’t,” Yang commanded, pulling Fulmer behind him. “Don’t touch him.”

There was a pause, a breathless moment where everyone turned to stare at Yang.

Then Shane did something Ryan would have never done seriously. He straightened his shoulders and slanted his head down until he was looking up through his lashes at the other men, the classic horror movie head tilt. After a low, rumbling chuckle that sounded horribly wrong coming from Ryan’s mouth, Shane grinned and said, “What a shame. I guess Yang figured out the truth. And here I thought I was doing so well being Ryan.”

What the fuck was Shane doing?

“Eugene, Ryan, what-”

Yang pressed Fulmer further back, slowly crouching down into a defensive stance. “That’s not Bergara. He’s possessed.”

Lim’s eyes took on a glimmering sheen as he peered at Ryan’s body with the second sight. “Are you trying to prank us? There’s no sign of a jockey in Bergara’s aura-” Lim choked as Shane chuckled softly. “No,” he said softly in disbelief.

There was a faint feeling of warmth spreading along Ryan’s limbs. What the hell had Shane done?

_I’m not hiding in your aura any more. Fuck, Lim’s expression is amazing right now._

Why was Shane doing this? Why would he reveal himself to their coworkers? Yang had had his suspicions, but if Lim and Fulmer hadn’t noticed anything wrong, they wouldn’t have taken his claims seriously.

_Pay attention. What do you sense?_

What did he sense? This wasn’t some fucking meditation lesson! Shane was ruining their careers, their lives, their chance to stop Gibson-

_Relax. Stop worrying. I’ve got you, Ryan._

Lim stumbled backwards towards the door, his hand reaching for his gun. “Get back!”

Shane gestured and everyone in the room abruptly went still. Ryan would have thought that Shane had stopped time, but all four men were breathing and blinking, their eyes wide in sudden terror. Holy shit, Shane could freeze people like that? Was there any limit to what he could do?

And what was that _smell_?

What had been a minor distraction was now all Ryan could focus on, a smell, a _taste_ that made him forget all about Shane was doing. It was metallic and sharp, unlike anything he had ever experienced.  The closest approximation he could think of was an expensive steak that had just been thrown onto a grill with a splash of lemon juice for flavor. If Ryan had been in control of his mouth, it would have been watering.

It wasn’t a physical hunger, but some part of Ryan’s soul longed to find the source of that taste and consume it. He _needed_ it.

Ryan didn’t have the mental capacity left to question what was going on. He sent a wordless plea at Shane, an unfocused craving leaving him unable to do more than beg for more of that scent. There was a sense that Shane was smug and nearly proud of Ryan’s reaction. Like a teacher watching a favored student puzzle through a tough problem.

Shane spread Ryan’s arms, revealing sharp black claws, and slowly walked towards the four paralyzed men, posturing like a bad movie villain. “Well done figuring it out, boys. I can see why you’re two of the best teams in the department. Of course, you never had a chance to beat me and ol’ Bergara here.” He smiled wickedly, an expression that Ryan would have been surprised his face could even make if he had been paying attention to what Shane was doing. “I suppose it’s unfair that Ryan had the Serpent of Eden as a partner, but that’s how the chips fell.”

Someone made a strangled noise through frozen vocal cords and that _taste_ grew more pungent, so strong that Ryan felt like he was drowning in it. And he _couldn’t consume it_. He wanted it, he needed it so badly that he thought the frustration would kill him.

Like a snake scenting its prey, Shane opened Ryan’s mouth and breathed slowly, letting the smell dance over his taste buds.

_Fear, Ryan. That’s fear._

Faint alarm pinged through Ryan’s consciousness but it was quickly forgotten.

_Do you want it? Shall I let you experience it?_

Ryan had never been so sure of anything in his life. His mental scream of ‘yes’ made Shane chuckle out loud.

There was the sudden sense of opening, a yawning void of hunger, then that delicious smell, the sharp metallic taste of acid and meat washed through Ryan and into his soul. It was better than any meal he had ever eaten, better than any orgasm or _any_ experience he had ever had or imagined.

It was a maelstrom of intense energy, a rush of life and the jittery pleasure of the release of endorphins. It was drinking a glass of cold water on a hot day, eating until too full, scratching an itch until it bled. It was satisfaction distilled into a painful form. As soon as Ryan realized he wanted it to never end, he could feel Shane pulling away, the sensation slowing to a trickle.    

He reached out with mental strength that he didn’t know he had and clutched at the feeling of Shane in his aura, needing more of the sensation that Shane was sharing.

_Easy there. Wouldn’t want you getting addicted._

It was far too late for that. Ryan was nothing more than a tangle of want and desire and insatiable hunger. He twined his soul around the demon in his aura, seeking out more of that taste like a junkie jonesing for his next hit.

_Hmm. You shouldn’t be able to do that._

The scent disappeared completely and the feeling of consuming went along with it. Ryan froze in shock for a brief moment before going into a frenzy, battering at the demon in his soul to bring the feeling back, to bring him more. It was like a fly trying to bother a giraffe but Ryan was determined to experience that _feeding_ again.

“Ryan,” Shane said out loud, his voice clipped and commanding. “Calm down.”

Hearing his own name being said by his own voice snapped Ryan out of his wild madness. He had a moment of pure incomprehension before he pieced together what had just happened. What Shane had done.

What. The. Fuck.

Had he just fed off of fear?! Had Shane seriously just fucking piggy-backed him through demonic feeding? Why the _fuck_ would he do that?

_Stop blowing this out of proportion. What’s a little emotion eating between friends?_

Another choked off sound came from the four men that Ryan had honestly forgotten about. At Ryan’s renewed surge of anger over Shane revealing himself, Shane rolled Ryan’s eyes and turned back towards them. “It was fun while it lasted, I guess.”

Shane moved until he was squarely in front of their co-workers and said, in a low voice that was so hypnotic Ryan almost fell into it and he wasn’t even the one Shane was facing, “I came in and said I would watch Madej’s body for the rest of the night. You want to leave. There were no demons here.”

All four men blinked as one, then Shane waved and they all fell out of their stiff postures. Yang jerked and looked down at his hand, obviously confused as to why he had been reaching for his gun.

It was eerie to watch them gather themselves to leave at once, muttering polite farewells as if nothing had happened. As if they would have ever let Ryan watch his partner’s body by himself. They were out the door so fast that it took Ryan a moment to realize he was alone with Shane.

With as much anger as he could muster, Ryan tried to mentally shout ‘Out!’ at Shane. It was far past time that he got his body back. Especially if Shane- no, _Nahash_ was going to be an ass and make him do something so _inhuman._

Shane huffed, far too amused at Ryan’s very real anger, and ambled over to his body. It looked pathetically weak and vulnerable, laying there motionless. Shane reached out and gently laid Ryan’s hand on his own body’s chest, careful not to touch anything he was hooked up to.

_This is the first time I actually missed a body. Odd._

Before Ryan could get any more impatient, Shane leaned Ryan’s body down and kissed his own lips. It felt weird to passively experience kissing a mouth that was slack and unresponsive, and just as weird to realize that Shane was essentially kissing himself.

Ryan was so distracted by the physical feeling of the kiss that he jumped when a large hand cradled the back of his head and the lips under his started to move. He realized belatedly that he was finally in control of his body and jerked back, despite a part of him wanting to continue what they had been doing.

“I am so angry with you right now.”

Shane smiled, frail and tired-looking, but wonderfully present and alive. Ryan hadn’t entirely understood just how much it had bothered him to see Shane’s body so limp and empty until Shane’s infuriating smirk was back on that stupid, weird face. “I know,” Shane said, completely unapologetic. “I also knew you’d figure it all out.”

The last time Ryan had seen Shane, all parts of him together and present in his body, he had been the very embodiment of a fallen angel, like something from a Renaissance painter. To see him now, like this, so painfully human and fragile, was yet one more surreal moment in a constant stream of them.  

“I wish we were dating just so I could make you sleep on the couch,” Ryan practically spat, grimly holding onto his anger. “I’m going to need therapy after this. And not the guy they make us go to for our evaluations. A personal therapist, just for me.” He wasn’t kidding, either. There was no way he was going to be able to get restful sleep after everything that had happened.

Even just the memory of the fear, the scent of it, the _taste_ of it, made Ryan’s fingers tremble in a surge of want. He wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forget it.

Shane ignored Ryan as if he hadn’t even spoke, a wondering expression on his face as he raised his hand. He frowned at the tug of the IV at the crook of his elbow but didn’t let it stop him from cupping the line of Ryan’s jaw. “I missed you.”

Ryan faltered, his initial angry complaint checked by the heartfelt statement. “Uh, you weren’t even gone for a full day, dude.”

“It felt longer,” Shane said simply. “I had forgotten you even existed until I heard your prayer.”

“How- ” Ryan shook his head, dislodging Shane’s hand and trying to push away the hurt that the words caused. Shane was an _angel._ Who knew what life was like wherever Shane had gone? “I didn’t pray to you. Let me go get a nurse so we can get you out of here.”

“Yes, you did. I’m sorry about Wendy.”

Ryan turned and took a few steps towards the door, uselessly squeezing his hands into fists. He was glad Shane was back. He really was.  But the demon had- had _enticed_ him into feeding off fear, something he hadn’t thought humans could even do. And he wasn’t ready to think about Wendy. “Try to look healthy. We have a demon to stop.”

He knew Shane was watching him as he walked away, but he didn’t look back.

 

\------------------------

 

Ryan got the distinct impression that Shane had done something to hurry along the doctors and nurses that were looking him over. It took barely an hour for them to sign off on Shane’s release, which felt ridiculously fast for a patient that had been in a ‘demon-induced coma’. He had been certain it would take hours and a battery of tests.

All it took was a single meeting of Shane’s eyes and anyone that might have hindered their escape would instead smile vaguely and sign whatever needed to be signed, then wave them on their way. It actually took longer for them to find all of Shane’s personal effects than being released.

“Our lives would have been a lot easier if you had been doing that more often,” Ryan said as they slid into Shane’s car. At this point, Ryan wasn’t even going to question why the car was in the parking lot when he knew for a fact it should have been back at the chapel. And he figured a joke was better than voicing his initial reaction of disgust and fear over how easy it was for Shane to manipulate people. Although, the possibilities when it came to questioning witnesses and potential suspects was making his head spin.

Not thinking about what he was doing, Ryan turned on his phone, telling himself he was looking at the time. While the screen was on, with the memory of four men walking out of a hospital room in a daze still fresh in his mind, Ryan quickly sent himself an email.

Shane answered Ryan’s joke absently, his gaze focused out the window. “People notice eventually. Records can’t be changed. I figured it was easier to do it now than have to deal with your impatient butt for the next three hours, though.” He glanced once at Ryan. “And what makes you think I haven’t been, ah, smoothing the way for us since I met you?”

Ryan made a questioning noise, trying not to think about the implications of that sentence as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“If they had been thinking clearly, they would have never assigned two humans with no more prior experience than probationary periods as partners.”

So Shane _had_ done something to keep them together.

“Why?”

Shane shrugged, sitting up in the seat. “Is it so hard to think I’ve always liked you? Why are we going back to the station?”

It was difficult to stay angry at Shane when he said things like that. “Because we have to make sure everything is ready to summon Gibson?”

He wasn’t expecting it when Shane laid one hand on his arm, demanding his attention. Ryan flicked his eyes towards him, uneasy with taking his gaze off the road for too long. Traffic was already starting to get bad with the early morning commuters. He did not want to deal with a fender bender on top of everything else. “What?,” Ryan asked, his tone edging into belligerent.

“Do you want to do this by the book or do you want it over with?”

“What does that mean?” Ryan asked, frowning and turning his head to look fully at Shane.

Shane sighed. “It would be easier for both of us if we do this alone. Now. Without getting anyone else involved.”

While it was true that Ryan didn’t want one of his co-workers or whatever poor bugger got called in to do the exorcism to be hurt, or even killed, they couldn’t hare off and do it on their own. They weren’t demon-banishing vigilantes, like some kind of real life, based-in-reality Constantine. “But the warrants to summon him, the questioning, the _case_ -”

“Do you care more about our solve rate or about keeping him from killing more people?”

Ryan out right glared, for once glad that he was currently stuck at one of those stupidly long red lights. “Don’t play dirty, _Shane_. You’re in that body, you’re an officer of the law. We’re supposed to do things by the book. That's our jobs.”

Shane tilted his head, oddly unblinking. “How many laws did you break to summon me, Ryan?”

Ryan stared at him for a long moment, his mind curiously blank. He was perfectly aware and ashamed of the things he had done lately. But to have it thrown in his face like that? It felt like he had just been slapped.

The sound of someone angrily honking a car horn made him look back towards the road and realize that the light was green. He pressed down on the gas pedal too hard, making the car jerk forward, but he could feel that Shane hadn’t taken his eyes off of him, still waiting for his response.

What was he supposed to say? ‘Yes, my oath to follow the law and sense of honor gets thrown out the window when it comes to you’? ‘Let’s go ahead and take the law into our own hands and permanently banish a legal demon, since I’ve completely lost my ability to care about pesky things like rules’?

Two weeks ago, he would have never entertained the idea of going off and banishing a demon without a warrant. But then, two weeks ago, he would have never summoned a demon, either.

“I’ll have to stop time and erase memories either way,” Shane said after a few minutes. He sounded like he was trying hard to be deliberately human. “I’m just saying, your options are limited, man. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Was that phrase really necessary?” Ryan asked, one last-ditch effort of a joke to drag some sense of normalcy into the situation. Except that he was tired. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.  He just wanted it all to end so he could go back to his life.

“On the highway to Hell? The road to Hell is paved in good intentions? Going to Hell in a handbasket?’

“Better the devil you know,” Ryan muttered, smiling reluctantly when he heard Shane’s laugh.

Shane shifted awkwardly in the seat as his laughter trailed off. He hesitantly said, “I could just do it by myself. You don’t need to be there. Just go home, Ryan. Get some sleep. I’ll take care of it.”

Ryan didn’t think ‘a good night’s sleep’ was the usual temptation demons used, but God, it sounded like an amazing idea. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let Shane go off and do this alone. Not that he thought Mr. Fallen Angel would need the help, but some part of him _needed_ to see this through. To see it done. To know for a fact that Gibson would be punished for those he had killed and that he wouldn’t be able to do it again.

“Where am I going?”

There was a long pause. He got the feeling Shane was surprised at how easily he had capitulated. “Head towards the desert.”

“What, like the Mojave? That’s over a four hour drive, dude.”

“You wanna do this where anyone can see it?”

“Well no,” Ryan said, making a face. “But there are closer places than the fucking Mojave that don’t have people.”

“Ryan, you once decided on a whim to drive to Las Vegas for one weekend.”

“Yeah, to get drunk and gamble, not to- not to fucking _banish a demon._ ”

Shane sighed and looked at Ryan like he was being unreasonable, before subtly twitching his shoulders in a way that wasn’t quite a shrug, that reminded Ryan of nonexistent muscles flexing-

Weightless darkness.

Ryan blinked to clear his vision, then swore softly, a breathless ‘ _fuck_ ’. They were surrounded by the dry dirt and wind polished rock formations of the high desert, the car parked in a cleared out spot next to a dusty, cracked, narrow road. “Where the fuck… “

It looked familiar, but one desert looked like the next to him. There were clumps of spiky vegetation everywhere that could have been yucca or aloe or something else entirely. Ryan had never had an occasion to learn. Either way, they definitely weren’t in Los Angeles anymore.

“Joshua Tree National Park,” Shane said, nodding towards a tree in the distance with rough, twisted branches and tufts of leaves that looked like clusters of knives.

Ryan turned to stare at him incredulously. “Were you seriously going to make me drive to _Joshua Tree_? That's so far away I’ve never even been there!” He hesitated. “Here? Whatever. I can’t believe you were going to force us to drive that far when you literally have wings.”

Shane shrugged and casually opened his door and stepped out into the late night darkness, his voice turning muffled. “I don’t like flying. It attracts attention.”

“You don't like flying,” Ryan said in flat disbelief as he also got out of the car, grimacing at the surprising chill in the air. “The thing that man has been trying to accomplish for centuries. And you don’t like it.”

Bantering always had been and always would be easier than trying to think of anything serious, so Ryan shook his head at Shane’s helpless spread of his hands and started to continue his mocking before he happened to glance up. He stopped, his mouth hanging open. “Oh.”

The sky was ablaze with stars. Maybe it had something to do with his inexplicable ability to see in the dark now, the clear air of the desert, or the lack of light pollution, but Ryan had never seen so many stars at once. It was beautiful. He felt like he could see the entire universe.

Shane quietly walked around the car and put his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, his length a warm line against Ryan’s side. “Yeah. Don’t get to see that too often.”

Ryan glanced over at Shane and felt himself melt a little. There was a small smile tilting Shane’s lips and a softness to his eyes. He always forgot how much Shane loved nature. Even if they were about to summon and banish a demon, he was glad to have this one moment with the being he loved.

It felt disturbingly nice to stand there and just enjoy the night sky.

The peacefulness was ruined when Shane said, almost hesitant, “Demonic powers aren’t all bad.”

Confused, Ryan could only ask, “What?”

Shane’s arm tightened in something that could have been a nervous gesture if Ryan wasn’t aware of how in control of his reactions Shane was. “You liked tasting fear.” Before Ryan could yell at him for making that statement, he hurriedly added, “You can see in the dark now, can’t you?”

“How-”

“Uh, I might have accidentally had something to do with that.”

Ryan unconsciously reached for his medallion, thrown for a loop and feeling completely wrong-footed when he realized there was nothing around his neck for him to grab. It made him stiffen against Shane, suddenly aware of how he was trapped at his partner’s side.

Was he finally going to get answers?

Did he actually want those answers?

“What, exactly, does that mean?” he forced himself to ask.

Shane leaned into him, placing a kiss that Ryan could just barely feel on the side of his head. He was abruptly cold again as Shane took a step away and turned to face Ryan. “Ryan,” Shane said, squaring his shoulders. “You-” He broke off, then made a face as if he was frustrated. “This shouldn’t be so hard to say, but I know how you feel about these things.”

_“What_ things?” Ryan asked sharply. His instincts, tired as they were, were beginning to take notice.

“Your soul recognized the energy I used to protect you,” Shane said, fast and quick, like he was trying to get the information out without Ryan understanding it. “It would have worked itself out eventually. The changes would have gone away. But events kept happening. And you managed to pull my power from the medallion. Somehow.”

“Okay? What does that have to do with-”

“And then you summoned me.”

Shane said it as if that was a big revelation, as if Ryan was supposed to understand exactly what that meant. “So? People summon demons all the time.”

“Ryan,” Shane said, running his fingers through his hair in a fit of frustration. “ _Think_ . You were _in the circle_ . You allowed me to possess you. And I _agreed to the terms of the summons._ ”

Ryan straightened to his full height, throwing his shoulders back in an attempt to stave off the creeping suspicion that sat crouched at the back of his mind. There was no way Shane meant that- No. It wasn’t possible. “I don’t even know what I was saying, it was just gibberish.”

Frowning, Shane finally looked away. “Yeah, Collins should have translated it. I don’t know why he didn’t-”

“Shane,” Ryan said.

“-He doesn’t gain anything from you-”

“ _Azazel._ ”

Shane’s gaze snapped to Ryan. “What?”

“Say what you’re trying to say or I swear to God I’ll find a way to leave you stranded in this place.”

“You really shouldn’t make oaths like that. Or say my name like that.” Shane said absently. He took a deep breath, then moved closer to Ryan, laying his hand on Ryan’s shoulder like he was about to impart depressing news. He closed his eyes and grimaced.

“For fuck’s sake-”

“You’re a warlock.”

The words didn’t really have meaning for a long moment. Ryan stared at Shane, who was looking back at him with a sympathetic expression. It felt like none of his thoughts were connecting with each other. It was just one long stream of half-formed questions and exclamations, none of which made sense beyond a general feeling of _no_. Finally, he managed to dredge up, “Shane, that’s not funny.”

Shane shifted his hand until it cupped the side of Ryan’s neck in a show of comfort. He didn’t look surprised when Ryan ducked away from him. “Considering how much you hate demons and warlocks, it’s a little funny, in a sad, ironic way.”

“This isn’t fucking rain on your wedding day, Shane,” Ryan growled, taking a large step backwards. “You can’t just fucking- You can’t tell people they’re warlocks out of nowhere!”

Shane shook his head. “It’s not out of nowhere. If you hadn’t summoned me, or if you had summoned me using a completely different spell, maybe you just would have been a little more powerful than normal.”

“I’m not a fucking warlock!”

“Look at that rock,” Shane said abruptly, pointing off into the distance. “The tall one next to the one sort of shaped like a chair.”

Desperate anger made Ryan want to yell at Shane for telling him to do something so stupidly random, but his partner sounded incredibly serious. So he glanced over at the rocks, saw nothing out of the ordinary, and turned to glare at Shane. “It’s just a rock. What about it? It looks like it’s granite?” He blinked, then started to scowl. “If you’re about to make some kind of fucking ‘taking things for granted’ joke, I-”

“You shouldn’t be able to see that.” Shane made a short gesture to emphasize his statement. “It’s dark out, Ryan. No human, no matter how good their eyesight, would be able to see that.”

“My contacts-”

“Your contacts aren’t going to make you see in the dark. Try a spell.”

“I’m not going to try a spell and waste power that I don’t have to waste because I’m _not a warlock_ ,” Ryan said, jabbing his finger into Shane’s chest with each word. “Stop whatever stupid joke you’re trying to pull.”

It was one thing to grudgingly come to accept a demon or two. They were a completely different species, he could excuse their alienness and their need to feed off emotions and their general apathy towards humanity. But to be one of the people that willingly and knowingly exchanged part of their aura, or their soul, for more power? It was unthinkable.

Shane drew in a breath through his one nose, one long inhale, then simply said, “I’m sorry.” Glittering shadow, a living oil slick, swirled through the aura that Ryan belatedly realized he had been able to see since he had gotten his body back. Ryan’s eyes tracked the movement automatically. Shane cocked his head. “You can see _me_. You have to admit it. You’re not entirely human anymore.”

The image of black eyes in a mirror came back to him.

_But that had been a dream._

Had it been?

Ryan wasn’t so sure any more.

If it was true, so many things would make sense. The little differences he had been noticing. Things that he shouldn’t have been able to do. Using the second sight glasses without getting a headache, being able to break free when Shane stopped time, lighting dozens of candles in the chapel with a only a single spell. At the same time, it made no sense at all. “Half of the weird things that have been happening to me started before I summoned you. Your little hypothesis doesn’t work. It has to be something else.”

Shane stared at him for a second. “I already told you. That was just the beginning. We went about this all backwards since you took my power before summoning me. But the order doesn’t really matter. Just the fact that both events happened.”

“That doesn’t make sense, I didn’t-” Ryan paused to calm himself, realizing his voice was getting louder, echoing strangely in the spread out expanse of desert. He truthfully didn’t know what it took to make someone a warlock, since knowing how to recognize one was all he had ever bothered to learn. Some things were common knowledge, though. “I didn’t enter into a contract with you to take your power. Yeah, I summoned you, but I didn’t agree to _anything_.”

“The scars on your arms say differently.” Shane paused, then said, with a careful kind of cheer that was an obvious attempt at lightening the mood, “Congrats, little guy. You’re a card-carrying warlock now. Don’t ask about the union dues.”

Dimly, Ryan could hear his own breathing quicken. He jerked his eyes away from Shane, unwilling to face him when he could feel a rip tide of anxiety creeping up from the depths of his mind to pull him under. It took all of his willpower just to push back that wave of fear, to put it in a box where it belonged. Ryan didn’t have the time or luxury to fall apart right now.

He barely spared a thought for what was happening when he felt long arms wrap him up in ginger hug, as if Shane thought he was about to be hit. Ryan didn’t even notice when his forehead thumped into a warm chest, his partner taking half of his weight as he slumped forward, his hands resting limply on Shane’s hips. Ryan’s mind was a mire that he was too tired to sludge through.

“I can’t be a warlock,” he whispered. “I… “

It couldn’t be true. It _couldn’t_.

“It’s not all bad,” Shane said. “I don’t plan on eating your soul, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

_But will you change it?_

Ryan was glad that Shane couldn’t hear the thought.

After a minute of leaning into Shane, he felt a peculiar sensation of barely-there warmth covering his hand. Ryan moved back enough to see that a thin curl of living shadow was wrapped around the back of his hand and thumb.

“Shane,” he asked quietly, his voice incredulous and oddly thick. “Are you holding my hand? Like, _you_ , not the body?”

If an incorporeal being that didn’t actually have a face could look sheepish, Shane- or Nahash- was doing a good job of trying. Shane shifted his body awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Uh, well I can’t actually _hold_ anything, so, technically, no.”

Ryan found himself wheezing softly. “You fucking dork,” he said, vaguely disgruntled at how hard it was to stay mad at Shane sometimes. He carefully twisted his wrist, letting the tendril of darkness twine through his fingers. “Why are you trying to distract me from banishing Gibson?”

Shane made a questioning noise, carefully avoiding Ryan’s gaze.

“All of this,” Ryan said, gesturing with his free hand. “Trying to get me to drive forever, telling me to go home, the bombshell that you could have fucking told me _later_ ; you’re just delaying the inevitable. Why?”

“Gibson is old,” Shane eventually said, looking out into the distance. “Not as old as me. But of the demons on Earth, he’s been around for awhile. I wouldn’t exactly call us friends, but he’s always been around.” He shrugged, as if he what he was saying didn't matter to him. “It's like realizing you don't actually hate the neighbor that keeps passive aggressively leaving notes about the height of your grass in your mailbox.”

“Shane, he’s killed people.”

“I had no personal connection to them.”

Ryan had to pause to remind himself that he was talking to a completely different species. “Don’t be a dick. Please.”

Shane sighed, then reached down to take ahold of Ryan’s hand, covering the layer of darkness that had taken up residence around Ryan’s fingers. They both watched as the tendril seemed to wriggle out from under Shane’s hand, the thin piece disconnecting from the whole with a snap that should have been audible. Ryan gasped softly, eyes wide as the tendril swirled it’s way up his arm. He could feel the faint warmth as it loosely draped itself around his neck, right where his medallion used to lie.

“What the hell did you just do?” he whispered forcefully. “You just pulled yourself in half!”

“It’s fine. I came back with a few upgrades,” Shane said nonchalantly. “Bit of a Gandalf the White situation going on here. I was reminded of what I really am while I was taking that little vacation off Earth.”

“...What does that even _mean_?”

“Eh, a few different things. Don’t worry about Mini-Me.”

Ryan could only stare at him.

Shane took a step back and clapped his hands together. “Alright, you’re right. I’ve got to stop putting this off. Time to banish one Gibson.”

“Wait, just like that?”

Pausing in the middle of raising his hands like a conductor, Shane winked at him. “Just like that. You’ll probably want to step back.”

Then, with a sharp sweep of his arms, Shane summoned fire.

A wall of flame that sprang up in a gigantic circle in front of them, shearing through plants, trees, and _stone_ like a knife through butter. The roar of the fire was deafening and Ryan hastily stumbled backwards, instinctually throwing his hand up to shield his eyes from the brightness, even though he hadn’t even needed to squint.

Fear ran through his body as the heat rushed over him. There wasn’t exactly a lot of vegetation in the area, but California had an unfortunate history with wildfires. Ryan opened his mouth, about to shout at Shane to stop, but as soon as he drew breath to speak, the flames evaporated into thin air.

Ryan had enough time to see that incredibly intricate runes had been carved into the ground before there was the feeling of immense pressure and the metaphysical equivalent of hearing a sonic boom.

Gibson was suddenly in the middle of the circle.

For one instant, a moment that would remain burned into Ryan’s memory, Gibson looked _relieved_ at the sight of them. Then the demon straightened and smiled smugly. “Ah! Nahash and Bergara! I was wondering when you would come a-calling. You interrupted me in the middle of something rather delicate, which was rude of you.”

Shane stepped up towards the edge of the circle, his shoulders slumped. “You know what I have to do.”

“You’re welcome to try, of course,” GIbson said, making a show of inspecting his nails. “It will be interesting to try out some of the new abilities I’ve gained recently.”

“Aeshma,” Shane sighed. His next words were low and guttural, clearly not human. Ryan almost thought he could understand them. Or at least get a sense of what was being said, comprehension just beyond his grasp.

Gibson stared at Shane for a long moment, before shifting his gaze towards Ryan. “Oddly, I do believe I will miss you, Ryan.”

Ryan unconsciously took a step forward. The words had sounded like a threat, but the way Gibson had said them, with a fatal kind of acceptance, made Ryan’s mind race. He was missing something, he was sure of it.

“Gibson, I’m sorry.” Weirdly, Ryan meant it. He hated that Gibson had killed people. He wanted nothing more than to make sure that Gibson would be punished for his callous disregard for life. But there was something oddly pathetic about Gibson’s posturing.

The demon shook his head once, a minute movement. “Oh, Bergara. Your compassion tastes like ash. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

Gibson exploded.

Or at least, that was what it looked like at first. One moment there was a normal looking man in a dress shirt and slacks standing in the middle of the circle. The next, some kind of creature from the nightmares of Lovecraft had taken up the entirety of the circle, a massive collection of too many long limbs, bat wings, horns, and skulls in a dimension-breaking jumble that strained the eyes. The gigantic bovine skull at the top of the amalgamation lunged forward, streaming fire from the eye sockets. An eerie, monstrous scream echoed from the parted jawbones, piercing Ryan’s ears.

Shane cocked his head to the side, unflinching when the skull bashed into the invisible edge of the circle.

In the space of a blink, so quickly that it was little more than a faint afterimage on Ryan’s eyelids, Shane was _more._ A towering inferno of blazing circles, edged wings, and hundreds of eyes intersecting at angles that were not physically possible and completely ignored physics.

For one logic-defying fraction of an instant, Ryan saw two immense beings of such power and unimaginable splendor that his mind could not process it. The sight, too glorious to behold, forced Ryan to his knees, tears pouring from his eyes as he trembled in mind-numbing fear.

Then Shane was merely a demon-possessed man again, staring at the thing Gibson had become with something like disappointment. “Cut it out,” he said lazily. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

The _thing_ in the circle froze, the main skull twisting to study Shane. It shrunk, slowly becoming Gibson in a nauseating show of disappearing limbs and bone. When the only thing left was a pair of wings, Gibson spread his hands in a shrug. “It was worth a try.”

Shane actually laughed softly. “Goodbye, Aeshma.”

Gibson inclined his head.

In the end, the banishment of Gibson was anticlimactic.

A single gesture from Shane, a thin tear in the fabric of reality that Ryan felt in his soul, then something seemed to pluck the darkness out of Gibson. His body collapsed to the ground and the tear closed with a snap.

It was the single quickest and least traumatizing banishment Ryan had ever witnessed. He couldn’t really appreciate it, though. All he could really see was the repeating image of two celestial beings facing off with each other. “You-” he gasped, old memories of classes and learning about angels and what they really looked like surging to the fore. “So many _eyes_.”

Shane was suddenly kneeling next to him, grasping his chin to tilt his head up. “Fuck, you shouldn’t have been able to see that. Come on, it’s done, let’s get you back.”

Hauling Ryan to his feet like he didn’t weigh any more than a feather, Shane led him, stumbling and shaking, back towards the car. Ryan wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up buckled into the passenger seat, but time felt like it was doing funny things.

The sound of the driver’s side door closing made Ryan look up, not really comprehending that Shane was sitting next to him. He managed to gather the wits to shakily ask, “Gibson is gone?”

“Yeah, he’s gone. You can relax.”

Ryan nodded absently, scrambling to push away the images in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep, calming breath, then forced himself to look out the window.

The desert was beautiful in early morning, the faintest edge of the dawn making the horizon turn a delicate, warm orange. It was quiet in the car, just two people sitting and breathing together.

So much of their lives together had been sitting next to each other, either in cars or at desks. Two normal, regular people, slowly building a relationship with each other.

But that was a lie, wasn’t it? One of them had never been normal. How had Ryan ever thought he could be worthy of a relationship with a fucking _angel_?

Warmth tightened around his neck.

“Ryan, look at me.”

Following the soft instruction, Ryan looked up into eyes filled with dark flames. “No,” he whispered, fighting the compulsion that told him to fall into that endless heat. The line of warmth pressed against his throat, an infinitely gentle collar.

“Please, don’t-” He tried to fight, to escape the drowning pressure of those eyes. But he couldn’t look away.

“I’m sorry. But it’s too dangerous for you to know.”  

“Aza-”.

Ryan jerked awake, hitting his head against the car window. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, reaching up to rub at the sore spot. “Did I fall asleep?”

“You were out like a light as soon as I started driving,” Shane answered him, reaching over to rest his hand on Ryan’s thigh. His fingers squeezed lightly. “I figured you needed it.”

“Uh, yeah,” Ryan said, blinking a few times. “Fuck, I think I’m starting to get a migraine.”

Shane snorted. “You didn’t hit your head that hard.”

“No, but it feels like I stuck it in a vice,” Ryan complained, stretching to pull his phone out of his pocket. “This night feels like it went on forever.”

“Hey, Ryan?” Shane asked carefully, his eyes still on the road, as if there would be a ton of traffic in the desert at seven in the fucking morning. “Could you say my name for me?”

Ryan furrowed his brows. “Why, you forget it?”

“Humor me. I humor you for your weird hunches, return the favor.”

Digging his thumb into his temple to try and relieve the pressure of the headache, Ryan groused, “Bigfoot.”

“Ryan.”

“Gumby.”

Shane sighed.

“Shane Alexander Madej,” Ryan said with a flourish.

That actually got him a faint laugh.

Ryan finally relented and said, gentler than he had meant to, “Nahash.”

Shane didn’t actually move, but Ryan got the sense he had just relaxed.

“What, did you think I had forgotten the past week or something?”

With a strange little smile, Shane shook his head. “Weirdly, I think I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“Aw, you big demon sap,” Ryan said, absently unlocking his phone screen. He was a little shocked it still had battery. He had a couple of emails, including one… from himself?

Ryan frowned as he tapped on it, the expression deepening when he read the single word. He didn’t remember sending himself an email at all, let alone one that contained only a gibberish word. He glanced up to ask Shane about it, but stopped when he saw the tired but content look on Shane’s face.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and slowly covered Shane’s hand with his own, tangling their fingers together.

Shane sent him a quick smile and Ryan smiled back, settling into his seat and contemplating going back to sleep. In the course of one night he had summoned a demon, watched that demon banish another one, broken a dozen laws, fed off of fear, and he had accidentally become a warlock. He felt like he deserved a nap.

For now, he was perfectly happy to sit next to the demon he loved and relax in the comfortable silence.

Whatever ‘Azazel’ was supposed to be a reference to, it could wait.

 

\-------------------

 

The city of Los Angeles lay spread out under her, thousands of twinkling lights, auras, and enchantments as far as the eye could see. It was a star-field of mortal life. A microcosm of the universe.

Perhaps that was why it comforted her as much as it disgusted her.

She curled her lip at the faint reflection of the face she could see in the glass. It was a face she was growing supremely bored of and only three months had passed. She had underestimated how long nine months really was. Being stuck in one body for the necessary length of time was proving to be more of a pain than the nausea.

Tom opened the door behind her, harsh light from the fluorescents he clicked on ruining her ability to see the city beneath her. She frowned but didn't say anything. Yelling at Tom never accomplished anything except heartfelt apologies and sickeningly adoring plans to fix whatever issue she had.

The man walked up to her and slid his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. The feeling of his love burned her, a faint annoyance that was overwhelmed by the satisfaction that came from feeding off of it.

She hated her dual nature, but she wouldn’t let that stop her from taking advantage of it.

“You shouldn’t be up this late, Lucy,” Tom said softly, spreading his hands across her stomach. Her form was petite, making it easy for him to cover the entirety of her belly. “Your body needs the rest.”

“As soon as I can, I’m possessing the largest, fattest man I can find, just so you can’t keep doing that,” Lucifer said casually.

Just like he always did at the threat, Tom just chuckled quietly. “You do that. I’ll kiss you less, sure, but you won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”

She hated that about him. She thought perhaps she loved that about him, as well.

Her involvement with Tom was not going according to her plan. Humanity was proving to be a hassle.

“Was Bergara successful?” Tom asked absently, kissing the side of her neck. She knew he didn’t actually care, but he made it a point to keep apprised of the things that had the potential to ruin her plans.

The fact that there was currently nothing in this dimension that could touch her apparently meant nothing to him.

“He was,” she answered. “Azazel is back and stronger than ever. Those rumors of an angel are just feeding into the prayers towards him.”

“And Gibson? Sorry, Aeshma?”

Lucifer shrugged, a faint pang of sadness making her scowl. Aeshma was little more than a pawn. Pawns were meant to be sacrificed. Even the loyal ones. “Gone. Azazel was more than powerful enough to stop him. I doubt Aeshma fought.” She turned in Tom’s arms, giving him a kiss on the cheek because she knew he liked it. “Thank you for staying with me tonight. Nothing was set in stone. Azazel has been playing human for so long, I was not entirely sure what he would choose to do.”

Tom smiled. “Something you didn’t plot down to the very second? You’re growing lazy in your old age.”

Despite her perpetual annoyance towards humanity in general, Tom had always been able to get away with teasing her. It was perplexing. “I could kill you in a breath, my dear.”

“Promises, promises.” His smile slowly fell as he looked down at her, his expression growing pensive. “Will he be a threat to us?”

Lucifer sighed and shook her head, reluctantly fond. “It will be fine, Tom. Azazel thinks of me as a friend. He will remain loyal.” She smirked. “He always has and always will be the best distraction for us.”

Her smile widened.

“My wonderful, perfect scapegoat.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maaaaybe there will be a sequel. I already have plans for it if there's any interest!
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the comments , kudos, and the greatly appreciated show of support that I got from quite a few people whenever I struggled with it. Y'all are pretty much the best. 
> 
> Until next time : )
> 
> \---Edit---
> 
> soft-cryptids also did
> 
> [this!](http://mephsation.tumblr.com/post/180600301851/soft-cryptids-did-it-again-demon-shane-from-my) 
> 
> I love it :D


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